Rival Arrival
by Chewy Kimono
Summary: Theres a new 'prince charming' in town... and he goes after feisty girls! Watch out, Helga!
1. Helga Rumbles

"Class," Mr. Simmons called out as the classroom bustled with activity one early Monday morning. The mob of children shouting and bouncing around and the paper airplanes filling the skies with paper traffic jams gradually died down as everyone eventually scrambled to their seats after more pleads from the teacher. "Fourth graders, welcome back and I hope you had a terrific weekend. Well, today is a very special day! I'm so glad to introduce a brand new addition to our big family of brothers and sisters here at PS 118. Please welcome our new student, Ian Reicher!"

Just then, a relatively tall, scruffy-brown-haired boy entered the room and stood next to the teacher. His piercing dark brown eyes, strangely resembling that of a fox's, studied all the unfamiliar faces lined in rows before him, staring back. There were a few dropped jaws from the girls in the crowd, although Helga could certainly be excluded from that bunch as she snorted sarcastically and plopped her feet onto her desk.

One might think that the kissy faces Rhonda made might attract a boy's attention, but it almost seemed as if Ian's glance shifted over to the gum-slathered soles of Helga's shoes.

"Pfft! What a goofy lookin' kid! I'll bet his parents brought him home from the pet store!" Helga muttered aloud, almost spitting her words in contempt.

"Hi, Ian," Rhonda said dreamily as she led everyone else in greeting the new student.

"Now, Ian, there's an empty desk in the back there, next to Helga," Mr. Simmons pointed out. "You can sit there." Ian slowly made his way through the desks to the back row and slid into the seat. He turned his head and looked over at Helga.

"Whadda YOU lookin' at, Cat Boy," she snapped. Ian smirked.

"Helga, huh?" he said thoughtfully. Helga narrowed her eyes.

"Yyyah." She rolled her eyes and turned her head away, twitching her propped foot irritably. Mr. Simmon's lesson sounded like mere white noise in the background of her mind as she looked back at Ian. He was still smiling mischievously at her. Helga's face became emotionless as she put her feet down and shifted uneasily in her seat. This kid was creepy.

Time passed and it didn't take much staring at the back of Arnold's head before Helga forgot about the boy next to her. She crumbled up bits of paper and stuck them in her mouth. Then she put a straw to her mouth and shot spitballs at that football shaped head that she admired so often. Each wad bounced off the back of his head. Arnold grimaced but didn't turn around as he tried to ignore the twinge of anger building up inside of him.

But soon, after Helga crumbled the rest of the paper she was ripping from and blatantly chucked the ball at his head he quickly turned around.

"Helga!" Arnold whispered hoarsely. "Cut it out!" He slumped back around angrily. Helga laughed at a couple pieces that stuck in his hair.

"Stupid football head! What a total goof! And yet..." But before Helga could reach for her locket, she became aware of Ian still watching her. She could see it from the corner of her eye. She closed her eyes, curled her upper lip, and growled quietly to herself. "Why that stupid, bug-eyed, no good..." Helga whipped her head to face his direction. She glared at him for a moment before slouching down in her seat, reaching her leg over and giving his chair a good solid kick. But instead of falling over like anyone else, Ian caught himself and turned his head back to look at her. He spit his tongue out. Helga scowled and leapt out of her seat like a wild animal that just snapped its own collar off. She flew at Ian and knocked him from his seat.

"Helga!!!" Mr. Simmons shrieked in panic. The room suddenly filled with the echoed scraping of chairs as the class quickly scrambled out from their seats and huddled around the fight. Everyone talked at once. There were cheers for Helga and cheers for Ian. Helga sat on Ian and repeatedly threw punches at his face, but each blow only bounced off of his wrists shielding his face. It didn't take much for Ian to defend himself against the otherwise feared bully, but he didn't hit back. Helga yelled as she punched harder.

"Arghh! You stupid jerk, just leave me alone!!" she shouted in anger. Everyone thought she had perhaps lost her mind; not only was Ian silent, but he hadn't been at the school for more than 20 minutes. Mr. Simmons got Stinky and Harold to pry Helga off of the composed boy. Before she knew it, she was sitting in front of the principal's desk. 


	2. Lunch for... Twelve?

The day was over, and the approaching sunset painted the abandoned playground with a soft red glow. Helga walked out of the school and into the brisk fall air as a resounding chorus of chirping cicadas filled the air. She held a shielding hand over her eyes to block the setting sun from blinding her, and the makeshift shade across her eyes brought Phoebe into focus as her friend stood at the front gates, staring at the ground.

Helga sluggishly plopped down each step and made her way over to the gates to head home. Phoebe looked up at the sound of footsteps approaching, and saw Helga's dejected looking face.

"Well?" Phoebe asked.

"After school janitor duties for two weeks."

"I see." Phoebe turned to walk alongside Helga, and left it at that. "How about a triple banana split?" Phoebe offered, hoping to see an ice cream slathered smile on her friend's face rather than such a dismal looking frown.

"Nah, I think I'll just head home and sit in my room," Helga replied with a sigh. She knew she wouldn't be punished, seeing has her parents would never care enough to find out about the fight in the first place. Phoebe stopped walking and watched Helga's back continue on away from her.

"O-okay, Helga. See you tomorrow." Helga stuck her hand in the air to say goodbye, but she never turned around. Phoebe turned and headed home, feeling a little more down herself.

Night passed, and the sun rose. New days always seem to have a little magic to them, because by the time Helga stretched and pulled herself out of bed the next morning, she was back in business.

"Move it buddy... Hey, watch out! Comin' through!" Helga said in her own gracefully gruff way as she shoved her way though the river of squirming kids in the outdoor school grounds. She reached Gerald and Arnold and shoved them apart as she walked into the school where everyone else was heading. The boys looked at each other.

"What a pain," Gerald said. Arnold agreed.

The class bell had yet to ring, so Helga lounged for a minute on Phoebe's desk.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, Helga," Phoebe said.

"Yeah, I guess I am," Helga replied, as if first becoming aware of Phoebe's observation. "I could do without the after-school duties, that's for sure." As Helga said that, she felt someone pass closely behind her. She turned around and saw Ian walking away. "Great," she muttered bitterly, having somehow forgotten the cause of such misery.

After watching him sit down in his seat, she slid off of Phoebe's desk, walked over to Ian and slammed her hands on his desk top with a rather impressive bang that resounded throughout the cold brick walls of the classroom.

"Listen, Bucko!" she threatened with the commanding authority that only Helga G. Pataki could dominate. "You get on one, tiny little nerve of mine today... and I knock all those pearly whites from your pretty little face. Capish?" Helga tauntingly waved her fist in front of his face as she leaned forward; Once Ol' Betsy and the Amazing Five reared their ugly head, any elementary school student was guaranteed to be sent running with their tail between their legs. Ian, however, was not only unmoved by Helga's notorious set of lungs, he was about as calm as a birdless, glassy, remote pond in the springtime... if you want to get poetic about it.

He put his hand on hers, slowly moved her fist aside and leaned forward as well, bringing their faces to an uncomfortably close proximity. There was a long pause, leaving Helga's perplexed expression in limbo for longer than she would have desired. Then finally...

"You think I'm pretty," he smirked. Helga's stare of disbelief stuck around for a little longer. Her senses, however, came back to her pretty sharply, because she snapped her fist and pushed him away in disgust.

"Just leave me alone!" she cried in exasperation, angrily retreating to her own seat. The classroom noise had already quieted from the attention to the scene between Ian and Helga, which gradually shifted back to Mr. Simmons as he started class.

Helga tapped her pencil nervously as she rested her chin against her hand and stared at her paper. She had to be careful not to go into any monologues about Arnold since she was under Ian's watchful eye. Every few minutes her eyes would dart to his direction. He'd be looking ahead, but look back at her in response to her stare. Then she would immediately look ahead. After a few more moments passed, she would once again look back to see if he was still staring at her, which he wasn't.  
The routine continued all morning. Until lunch arrived.

In the lunch line, Phoebe followed behind Helga as the children lined up systematically to receive whatever unidentified slops awaited them.

"Is something the matter, Helga? You're still pretty quiet. Ever since... Ian arrived, I guess," Phoebe said, putting two and two together as she spoke. Helga didn't reply because she saw Ian walk up next to her to join them in line.

"Hey, Helga," he said casually. Helga stopped and looked at him. She had never realized that she wasn't used to people she didn't know well remembering her name, nonetheless saying it to her so suddenly. That pang of subconscious realization coupled with such a disgustingly lighthearted smile made Helga's blood boil. She looked ahead again and continued along the line, ignoring him. Phoebe walked along with Helga hesitantly, unsure of the interaction between the two.

Suddenly Helga stopped at the bread stand. She grabbed six rolls, piled them onto her tray and shoved it into Ian's hands, which instinctively responded to grab the incoming tray being thrust at him. He looked blankly at his new tray and Helga continued on. Ian followed. She stopped at the milk stand. She grabbed a few cartons and placed them on his tray too. Once again, Ian stared at his tray, and they continued. Helga stopped at the main course, which was steak. She took the plate of mysterious-looking slices from the lunch lady and plopped it onto Ian's tray. Phoebe saw what Helga was doing and tried not to smile as she watched. Next they stopped at the salad, then the dessert. And finally, they had reached the woman at the end of the line. She totaled up Phoebe's food and Phoebe paid. She totaled up Helga's, and Helga paid. Phoebe saw Helga leave without waiting for Ian, so she obediently left for their table too. Meanwhile, Ian stood in front of the woman, who was staring at his enormous mountain of food piled high. Neither person knew what to do.

When the girls sat down, Phoebe couldn't help but burst out in giggles.

"Helga, why..?" she began. But she watched Helga's emotionless face quietly sip the straw sticking out of her milk, looking as if nothing had happened. Phoebe stopped smiling and quietly ate her food, too, keeping her eyes diverted up towards her friend. Phoebe couldn't help but feel a little impressed at Helga's suddenly non-violent means to exhibiting her anger. The shadow hovering over Helga, however, was not so impressed.

"Helga," a familiar voice said. Helga looked up to see Arnold standing over her. She felt a bit uneasy at his face towering over her.

"What," she snapped, looking back to her milk.

"I saw what you did to Ian."

"So?"

"Helga, he just transferred to our school yesterday. You can't do stuff like that to new kids." Arnold spoke confidently, ready for an argument. "What did he do to YOU?"

Phoebe looked across the room at Ian, expecting him to be upset. That might have been why Arnold was defending him. But Ian was fine. He didn't have his tray, and he was sitting with Harold and the other guys acting as if nothing had happened. She could overhear him talking Harold into going on a diet. Harold grudgingly pushed his lunch over to Ian, who grinned childishly at his own success. He happily opened his new lunch. Phoebe smiled, admiring how cheerful he was.

She turned her attention back to her own lunch table. Arnold had an angry look on his face as he and Helga looked at each other. You wouldn't have believed a natural phenomenon was possible indoors until you saw the lightening bolts of hate zapping accusingly between each child's eyes.

"Just go away, you stupid football head," she growled. "It's none of your beeswax." Arnold sighed harshly and left, knowing any retort would be futile. Helga frowned as she looked down at her rather humble lunch. She rested her head against her hand and poked at her straw, eating no more than if she hadn't gotten a plate of food for herself, anyway.


	3. Unwelcome Ian

After classes, Helga went to her locker. On her way, she saw Ian standing within a pile of girls around him, chattering like brainless birds, for all Helga knew. She rolled her eyes and kept on walking past the spectacle. She opened her locker and tumbled her books into it, dropping them carelessly into a messy pile. After rummaging through homework papers, she came across an old picture of Arnold, one of probably many hidden in the mess. It was his first grade class photo, and in it his goofy smile beamed at her with a distinct black gap in his mouth where his front teeth used to be. Helga calmly smiled and put the picture to her chest, while memories of their argument at lunch simultaneously faded as quickly as they did every time Helga did so much as take a deep breath.

"Oh, Arnold," she sighed. "How I love thee. And yet, I haven't the heart to say it is so. Oh Arnold, my love, please forgive me, blackened by the misdeeds of my own misconstrued heart gone astray, and know that I have fallen for the one I long to call my own. Alas, I have blundered and pushed you away yet again. But one day, I vow to take you in my arms and call you mine!"

After another longing gaze at the oblivious smiling boy in the picture, Helga hid it back in her locker and shut the door. Ian's face appeared from behind the locker door, stopping Helga's heart for a moment as she gasped and jumped back in shock. He had a sly grin on his face, matching surprisingly well with the rest of his foxy features.

"Is that Poe?" he asked. Helga stared at him in horror. He. . . he heard. . .

"So, Helga, did you hear about the school fair coming up?" he asked nonchalantly, as if she had just had a monologue about something as mediocre as string cheese. Her face still remained in a state of shock, staring at him. There was an uncomfortably long pause.

"What?" he finally asked in defense. Helga's facial expression turned sour when she narrowed her eyes and lowered her head, glaring at him. Before he knew what was coming to him, Helga's fist met him square in the face, knocking him to the ground.

Ian's blurred vision slowly came into focus, with the view of the white ceiling in the nurse's office awaiting him. On the table beside him, there was a small pile of crumbled, strategically folded notes on lined school paper from various female fans. Some wished him to get better, while others bashed Helga for her misconduct; most were both. And on the other side of the bed, he saw Helga sitting on a chair beside him, looking rather guilty. She kept her head hung low, but he saw her eyes look up and meet his when he shuffled in bed.

Lowering her head back down, she mumbled, "Everyone's gone home. I'm just here cuz I just finished my after school cleaning." she said. Ian smiled and put his hand up to her cheek. Helga jumped at the contact, but quickly recovered and frowned at him.

They looked at each other for a few moments, her expression of displeasure contrasting with his expression of contentment. He pulled his hand back.

"Go to the fair with me," he said, finishing what he meant to say earlier. Helga ignored the unwanted question.

"You know, I hit you because you weren't supposed to hear that, and I figured if I killed you, then you couldn't tell anyone. Unfortunately, it didn't work. But if you tell a single soul about what I said-- even your little goldfish or something"  
"--I don't have a goldfish"  
"--I swear I'll snap your legs." Helga spoke quietly, but sternly. She got up and headed for the door.

"So that's a yes?" Ian called behind her. Helga stopped walking, but she didn't turn around.

"Shut up, Ian," Helga said, and left. 


	4. Tested Patience

When Helga got home, Bob was sitting on the couch watching static on television and Miriam was in the kitchen, absentmindedly making herself a smoothie. Helga walked past them, as unnoticed as if she were a gentle gust of wind that passed by. She headed to her room.

Helga shut the door and sat down on her bed. She reached in her pocket to pull out the crumpled flyer she had found on the way home. The heading boldly proclaimed, "PS 118 Annual School Festival," with "Run by Mr. Simmons," underneath it. Helga sighed. There was no way she would ever be caught dead going to the fair with Ian; it seemed more appealing to accompany the remains of roadkill scrounged up from somewhere down the street. She decided not to think about it, so she crumpled it back up and threw it onto her dresser. Letting all of her collective stresses from the day release in a single, long sigh, Helga let her torso fall back and she bounced her back down onto the bed. What could she do to stop Ian from liking her? She supposed she had to step up her game a notch and make sure he could not stand to be around her. After all, she may enjoy being rotton to kids at school, but this kid was a whole new level. She never actually teased people with a specific intention to get them to hate her, so she knew she would have to work hard at this one.

That night, Helga fell asleep to a brewing list of ideas in her head. As she drifted into slumber, a small smile crept onto her face, accompanying her final hope of the day that perhaps Ian would even leave their school for good.

"Move it! Comin' through!" Helga growled as everyone gathered inside the school. She shoved her way through the kids. When she reached Gerald and Arnold, she slid by them. "Watch it, Arnoldo," Helga hissed. After Gerald and Arnold watched her back disappear into the crowd as she stormed off, the two looked at each other, puzzled. She usually had a more commanding presence than that. And by commanding, I mean Arnold's face would bounce off of whatever locker he had reach by that point.

"Must be our imagination," Arnold muttered. Gerald agreed.

Helga's face adorned an Academy Award-winning scowl as she patrolled down the hallway in a trot that was suspiciously close to that of a primate. She shouldn't be as rotten to Arnold as usual; she had to save it all for Ian. She had to make him feel unwelcome.

"Hey, Helga," Ian said as she ignorantly walked by him. He quickly caught up and matched her brisk walking pace as he stayed next to her, struggling to keep up despite the crowd they were pushing through. "How's it goin'? Get all your homework done?"

Helga kept walking. Ian kept talking. "Well, I didn't get a black eye, thank goodness. Wouldn't want to mess up this pretty face, hey?" Ian chuckled as he elbowed her side. Helga immediately stopped walking, and Ian stopped in his tracks as well. Making any remote physical contact with her was unacceptable. She approached the drinking fountain beside her and leaned over to take a drink, but instead cupped her hands.

"Well, anyway, about the fair-" Ian started. Helga quickly turned around and aimed the water flying from her hands directly at his pants.

Before Ian realized what was happening, Helga announced down the hallway, "Hey, look everyone! Ian peed his pants!" Everyone stopped and looked at the commotion. Helga didn't bother sticking around for the reaction and walked off to class.

As the class huddled into the room, Helga overheard whispering about Ian's "incident."

Minutes passed, and class had started. Everyone was in their seats and quiet as things got back to normal. Helga looked over and saw the empty desk next to hers. She gave a sigh of relief at his absence.

As time passed in class, Helga sat quietly, staring blankly at the chalkboard as she rested her head against her wrist. She didn't even feel like pelting Arnold with spitballs. How she hated Ian. But soon, everyone looked over at the door as the doorknob clicked and turned. Ian opened the door and walked in. He smiled and headed to his seat.

"Glad to see you back, Ian," Mr. Simmons chimed. Ian returned to his seat and he plopped onto his chair. Helga saw Ian wearing different pants. He looked forward and rested his arms on his desktop, ignoring Helga's apparent stare. She sneered and turned her attention back to Mr. Simmons.

Fated lunchtime had arrived. Helga opened her paper bag lunch and peered inside at the awful contents. Her stomach turned and she pushed the bag away. Phoebe looked at it.

"Did your parents pack your lunch today?" she asked, surprised.

"No, I did," Helga grumbled. "But not anymore."

Naturally, Helga heard someone approach her. She looked up and to no surprise, saw Ian's bright face grinning at her.

"Can I sit here?" he asked happily.

"No," Helga said bluntly, without a moment to lose.

"Well, that's okay," Ian said. He walked over to Phoebe, put his lunch down, and sat next to her.

"Can I sit here?" he asked her. Phoebe's face glowed a bright red.

"W-well, sure... I don't mind..." she managed to stutter with a goofy smile.

"Thanks," he said, smiling at her. Phoebe passed out cold and her chair fell over backward onto the floor.

"Phoebe!" Helga rushed to her friend. "Good going, Cat Boy!" she shouted angrily, although probably a little more angry at Phoebe by this point. Ian looked blankly at Helga.

As Helga stepped out onto the school steps after her chores were finished, she noticed it was dusk outside. Today she'd stayed a little longer than usual.

She walked sluggishly down the steps and headed for the sidewalk.

"Hi, Helga," Ian's voice cut the silence she'd been around while cleaning the empty school for the past couple hours. He was leaning against the gate, waiting for her. Perhaps it was the cleaning duty that had worn her down for the day, but Helga was too exhausted to be rotten to him. With Ian, it wasn't even fun being a bully. Not like it was with Arnold. Ian made it a chore, and she was losing her spark. She had enough of him, and figured anything she did would never work anyway. His obstinance sickened her.

"Go AWAY, Ian," she threatened, knowing all along that Ol' Betsy had failed her this time, anyway. Ian stayed next to her as they walked down the street.

"You know, you don't look so good," he said worriedly.

"Gee, I wonder why. After all, I LOVE picking gum off from under lunch tables and desk tops and wiping off slime from lunch trays and clapping chalky erasers and mopping EVERY INCH of the hallways in the entire school!" Helga cried in frustration. "That's not even half of it! Ian, I really, really don't need this right now. Please go home." Understanding that the second option after physical violence was verbal persuasion, Helga knew she was screwed. It was not exactly her strong point.

"Well, at least let me walk you home," he offered. He could tell Helga was about to protest, so he added, "I won't say a word, I promise. I'll just make sure you get home okay." When Helga didn't respond, he assumed it was okay. Fully aware of her frustration, however, he did not smile in his victory.

So, as the sun set, the two quietly walked next to each other down the road. 


	5. Strange!

"Heeelga! You'll be late for school!" Miriam's muffled voice echoed from downstairs. Helga's baggy eyes slowly opened. Her blanket pulled off of her body as she sat up in bed to rub her eyes. What time was it? She looked over at her clock. 8:20 glared back at her in big, accusingly red digital numbers. Helga's sluggishness shot from her body as she fell out of bed.

"Mom!" Helga cried, clearly upset that her mother would wait until after school had already started to do the courtesy of waking her up. She ran into her closet, threw on her usual pink dress, fixed her bow, and hurried downstairs. She grabbed a granola bar, threw it in her mouth, hopped down the hallway as she slid her shoes onto her feet, and flew out the door with her books under her arm.

As the kids gathered into the school, Phoebe noticed it was calmer than usual, not failing to take into account of course the absence of Helga. She walked to her locker and imagined reasons why Helga wouldn't be at school. As she pulled her books from her locker, Phoebe heard Arnold's voice next to her.

"Phoebe?" he asked. Phoebe paused and looked at him, noting the discontent expression looking back at her.

"Yes, Arnold?"

"Well, I just wanted to ask if you noticed anything strange about Helga. She's acting... different."

"Yes, I did observe that Helga's been acting a bit eccentric lately. I'm not sure what's going on."

"Okay..." He figured he would give it a shot, but if her best friend didn't understand her behavior, he knew it was hopeless for him to make any sense of it himself. "Well, thanks Phoebe." He waved and left.

Ian scribbled senselessly on his paper as Mr. Simmons' voice droned on as an echo in the background of his wandering mind. He wondered if Helga was okay. She looked like she was in pretty bad shape.

Yesterday  
They were walking down the street toward Helga's house. Although neither Ian nor Helga was speaking, Helga seemed very upset that he was walking with her. An uncomfortable silence lingered. Ian wanted to talk to Helga while he was with her, but he promised he wouldn't say anything, so he resorted to quietly enjoying her company. He looked around, taking in the new sights and studying the neighborhood everyone else was so familiar with. It was much homier than his old place. After turning down a few streets and traveling a couple blocks, they reached Helga's place. Ian stopped at the bottom of the stairs and watched her trudge up to her front door.

"There, I wasn't murdered. I told you I'd be fine," Helga said bitterly, keeping her back to him. She opened the door to go in.

"Good night, Helga."

She ignored him and shut the door behind her. Perhaps it was the lack of a conversation to pass the time, but Ian hadn't failed to notice the rather long distance they had travelled from the school to her house. He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and headed home.

The classroom door opened, and a fairly droopy looking Helga walked in and headed to her desk. Mr. Simmons noticed her tardiness but decided not to pry about it. She looked rather gloomy.

Helga slumped in her seat and folded her arms. What a week. She wondered if she would make it to the weekend without jumping out of the nearest window. She slowly looked over at Ian, who smiled at her supportively. Her facial expression remained blank. He really didn't know who he was dealing with, did he? Although, it could have been the other way around, even if she wouldn't admit it.

The class hustled out of the room as the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Helga was the last to leave, in no hurry to get to her cleaning duties. She slowly got up, gathered her books, and left to go to Principal Wartz's office to get the list of things to be done.

She quietly sat across from the principal who was looking at some papers, sitting in his big black office chair like the big, important authority figure he strived to be. He was silent as he shuffled through papers between pauses to read them. He looked up when he saw Helga waiting for him.

"Ah, yes, Miss Pataki," he said inquiringly after realizing she was there. "Your duties are done. You're free to go home."

Helga blinked. "What?"

"That new kid-- what's-his-face-- came to talk to me. He explained the circumstances under what you're being punished for. I decided a week is enough." Helga stood up. Ian explained... what? She decided to hurry and leave before Wartz changed his mind.

"Thank you, sir."

Helga lay in bed that night with her eyes wide open, staring up with an expression as blank as the ceiling above her. What was his deal? He drove her nuts, but she had to admit even to herself that it seemed he really did care about her. She did not know what to think, but nonetheless could not help but have thoughts involuntarily racing through her mind, either. Was Ian as bad as she thought he was? Of course he was, she thought. He's obnoxious. And self-centered. He's got a band of hopeless fan-girls parading around him like he's some sort of king, and yet it wasn't enough for him; he had to bother the hell out of her, too. He was completely different than Arnold, who always put other people before himself. But then again, she couldn't say that Ian didn't. Not when he was so gentle towards her. Her newfound confusion was like a foreign feeling to her, and she didn't know how to deal with it. She certainly didn't revel in the perplexity of it all, though; on the contrary, it infuriated her.

Helga turned onto her side and curled into a ball. She took the locket from her nightgown and looked at the football head smiling back at her, illuminated by the moonlight.

The more Helga thought about Ian, the more she wanted to be with Arnold. Then she could at least feel safer. But the way she acted around Arnold, she knew it was impossible. Helga sighed. How she really hated Ian. 


	6. Team Player Helga

Helga slowly opened her eyes and saw the locket still in her hands. Arnold still looked back at her with the same soft smile that never left his face. She let go, and the locket quietly dropped to the floor. Her eyes were fixed in front of her, not looking at anything in particular. Helga sat up and rubbed her head; she had a terrible headache. She got up and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.

A small arm reached out from behind the shower curtain and grabbed a towel. Helga wrapped herself up and stepped out of the shower. She ruffled her wet hair and remembered that it was a Saturday. A liberating sensation of relief passed over her; the last thing she needed was another school day.

Helga stepped out from the bathroom and steam escaped from behind the door. She hadn't heard her mother calling to her that someone had come to see her, so when she saw Arnold standing in front of her she nearly dropped her towel. She gasped and stared at him in horror. The feeling was mutual, seeing from the embarrassed look on his face.

"Arnold?! What are you doing here?!" she cried, and raced to her room without waiting for an answer. She slammed the door behind her, hiding her beet red face. Well, that was mortifying. She quickly got changed and opened her bedroom door. Her hair was still down and dripping wet. Arnold was sitting at the top of the stairs. Helga walked over and sat next to him.

"Whadda ya want, Football head. You nearly scared me half to death," Helga said, surpressing as much snap in her tone as she could as she rung her hair, allowing it to soak the floor beside her.

"Sorry, Helga," Arnold replied. "I just came to see if you were okay."

"You came to check up on me? Since when did you care?" Helga asked sarcastically. The supression of her harsh tone did not exactly last very long. Arnold dismissed it, probably not even noticing it anymore.

"I dunno, but it's just that you've been acting really weird lately, and yesterday you were really out of it. Is something wrong?" he asked. Helga looked at him imploringly, not knowing what to think, just like she did not know what to think every other time Arnold was so kind to her.

"I'm fine, doofus," she lied.

Arnold kept his eyes on her, wondering why he even bothered. "Well, we're having a baseball game today. You comin'?"

"Is Ian coming?" Helga asked. Arnold nodded.

"Psh, then I'm not going." She huffed, not thinking about it. Arnold did. He paused to think for a moment.

"Is this all about Ian?" The question caught her off guard.

"I-Ian? No, of course not!" Arnold could read her uncertainty.

"What's wrong with him?" He could tell she found Ian quite distasteful.

Helga sighed. "Arnold, it's none of your business. It's no big deal, okay?"

After a pause to soak in the defeat of trying to get her to talk to him, he gave up. "Whatever you say, Helga. So you aren't coming?" Helga shook her head. Arnold got up. "Okay. Well, I'll see you later, then." He started downstairs.

"...Arnold, wait," Helga said. Arnold stopped and looked at her. She looked back at him. She wanted him to stay there with her. She wanted to be with him right now. She wanted to tell him everything, and have him understand what she was going through. She wanted him to care. To care, just like Ian did... But she looked back down at her knees. "Never mind." Arnold paused and stood there for a moment, waiting for her to continue. But she didn't. He turned and went down the stairs, then left for the game. Helga's heart sank as he closed the door behind him.

"Helga!" Phoebe shouted as she saw her friend approach Gerald Field. Harold, who was just about to pitch, stood up straight and held the ball next to him. Everyone stopped and watched Helga walk to the baseball field.

"Hey, Helga," Arnold said with a grin. "You ready to play?"

"Yeah. Whatever."

"Then go be catcher, Sid sucks at it," Harold said.

"Hey!" Sid shouted.

Helga took the gear from Sid and slid it on. She crouched down and Arnold stood in front of her, up to bat. She looked over at first base to see Ian looking back at her. He smiled and waved his baseball glove at her.

"Great," Helga mumbled to herself, "I've got Cat Boy on my team."

Harold narrowed his eyes menacingly as he smirked at Arnold. He wound up and threw the pitch. Arnold swung the bat and followed through an empty swing as the ball shot into Helga's glove with a windy thump.

"Strike one!" Helga announced as she threw the ball back to Harold.

Harold wound up, and Arnold circled the bat in the air as he shook his hips. After Harold pitched, the ball flew at Arnold and a loud crack sounded in the air as the baseball flew overhead. Helga stood up and removed the gear from her face as she watched the ball soar to Gerald, who was center field. He ran after the stray ball and lunged forward as the ball landed neatly in his glove. He realized he caught it and happily held it high in the air.

"Out!" Helga announced, stopping the people running around bases in their tracks.

"Okay, that's three! Switch!" Harold shouted to everyone. Helga took the gear off and went to the sidelines to wait for the other outfielders to join her. Gerald, Eugene, Harold, Rhonda, Sid, Brainy, and Ian walked over to the batting area.

"I think Ian should bat first," Rhonda stated proudly.

"Fine with me," Sid and Harold said. Brainy wheezed in agreement.

"Alright," Helga said, feigning indifference.

"Well, I don't like going first. I like going second," Ian replied. "Why doesn't Helga go first?" Helga scowled at him.

"It's no big deal." She grabbed the bat and went up to the plate. She didn't even feel like playing baseball. It was just boring sitting at home.

Arnold wound up and pitched. Helga swung aggressively and missed the ball.

"Strike one!" Stinky called from behind her. He stood up and threw the ball back to the pitcher.

Another pitch. Another miss.

"Strike two!" Almost subconsciously, she envisioned Ian's face on the baseball, despite the gruesomeness behind the context of it all.

Arnold pitched the third time, and Helga's bat finally made contact with the ball. There was a shrill crack and the ball flew to right field, headed for Nadine. She ran after the ball but it hit the ground and bounced a few feet off the grass as it continued away from the field. Helga dropped the bat and darted toward first base. When she saw the ball was still in the outfield, she turned and headed toward second. Nadine finally caught up to the ball and threw it to shortstop. Helga had continued running so she made it to third base, where she skidded to a stop. Her team at the sidelines was cheering. Helga jokingly saluted to them and rested her hands on her knees to catch her breath. That felt surprisingly good.

Ian took the bat and approached home base. He tapped the tip of the bat to home base a few times and raised the bat behind his shoulder. He circled the bat in the air as he waited for the pitch. Arnold wound up and threw the ball. Ian hit it immediately. It flew right at the ground and rolled through the field as the shortstop ran after it. Helga ran to home base and slowed as her foot stepped over it. The team cheered. Ian stopped at first base since the ball was so close to him. Next, Gerald was up to bat. He hit the ball on the second try, but got out before he reached first base. Ian, however, had made it to third. Then Eugene was up to bat. On the first pitch he was hit in the head so he was out for the rest of the game. So then it was Harold. He went up to bat and hit the ball, sending Ian back to home base for another run.

At the end of the game, the score was 15-13, with Harold's team the victor.

"Yeah!!" Harold cheered, rubbing it in the face of his opponents.

All of the kids sat around the field after the game, exhausted from all the excitement. They had been playing all day, so the color of the sky was beginning to soften into dusk.

"Willikers, we ain't had a game lahk that in a long tahme," Stinky said. Everyone agreed.

"So you guys do this every weekend?" Ian asked, impressed by the network his classmates had going with each other.

"Of course!" Harold replied. "Hey, is everyone going to the fair next weekend?"

"Yeah, it sounds like it's going to be a lot of fun," Rhonda said.

"I think we should help Mr. Simmons set it up," Arnold suggested. "It'd be fun to help put it all together."

"Will we get to do some of our own ideas?" Nadine asked.

"Probably," Arnold replied.

"Let's do it!" Gerald said aloud. The kids all agreed.

"We'll inform Mr. Simmons on Monday," Phoebe said. Helga got up. "Are you leaving now, Helga?"

"Yeah. I'm tired," she replied as she left the field, satisfied enough with the excitement that passed her time.

"Dinner should be ready soon, I better go," Arnold said. "See ya, guys." Soon everyone was getting up and leaving. As Gerald was leaving, he hesitated and looked back to see Phoebe and Ian leaving together. Phoebe had asked Ian to walk her home. She never did that to Gerald... Gerald's face saddened as he turned to go home.

Helga opened her front door to go inside, but the house seemed eerily quiet. "Hello?" she called out. Her parents must have gone out, so she shut the door and decided to take a walk to the park.

The air had cooled somewhat, so it felt good to take a relaxing walk. The air smelled nice as she continued down the sidewalk. There was an empty bench, so she approached it and plopped down. She extended her arms along the back of the bench and leaned her head back so she was staring up at the clouds. She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes. A few moments passed, and Helga felt someone sit next to her and lean against her extended arm. She opened her eyes and looked over to see her arm around Ian. He seemed to be ignoring her, however, because he was looking up at the clouds like she had been doing. Lacking the will and energy to have a fit about it, Helga gave up and put her head back where it was. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Helga felt oddly peaceful with Ian's weight next to her on the bench. Normally, she was alone most of the time. No one ever wanted to sit with her, let alone be around her. But now, just the sense of someone else's presence calmed her. After sitting and enjoying the evening air for a while, Helga's eyelids became heavy. She pulled her arms back to herself and slumped on the bench.

"Did you stalk me or something?" Helga asked out loud. There was a long silence before Ian answered.

"No," he said quietly. They both seemed to be pretty tired. After a while, Ian added, "Dad's in a bad mood." His quiet voice was barely audible.

"Oh." Helga's volume, too, was almost mute. So they simply continued to sit in silence.

Before long, the streetlights down the block flickered on one by one down the row. Helga sat up straight.

"Better get home," she said, more to herself than to Ian. She got up and straightened her dress. She yawned before walking down the sidewalk to leave the park and head home. But as she walked, she hesitated and looked behind her at Ian. His head was leaning against the back of the bench, apparently asleep. Helga paused and walked back to him. She sat down and faced him, studying his face. But before she would be bothered with any positive thoughts about him, she put her hand on his shoulder and gently shook him.

"Ian." He didn't wake up. She stopped, but started shaking him again. She did it quite subtly because she was almost asleep herself. Ian finally opened his eyes slowly and lifted his head.

"Huh?"

"You better get home. It's getting late." Helga got back up to leave. When she started home again, she stopped once more. Looking back at Ian, she saw him sitting up, but leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees as he stared at his feet. "What," she said to him. He looked over at her. His face almost looked different without his ridiculous cheer beaming from it.

"Nothing." He looked back down, his hair covering the side of his face once more. Helga paused for a moment, debating whether she should stay with Ian or not. She felt disturbed, however, that the thought had even crossed her mind. She turned and went home.

As she lay in bed that night, Helga couldn't stop thinking about Ian. He seemed pretty upset while they were at the park. Of course, upset being 'not bubbly.' There was a tapping on her window, and Helga looked to see it began to rain outside. Was Ian still at the park? She looked back at the ceiling and pulled the covers closer to her chin. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but her conscious kept gnawing at her. Ian didn't seem like he was about to go home. She sat up in bed, wide awake. "Criminey," she scoffed in frustration at herself.

Helga snuck downstairs after putting her robe on. She slid her shoes on and quietly opened the door. The sound of rain got louder when the door opened. She shut the door behind her and headed to the park.

The raindrops could be seen as it dropped and glittered in the light cast by the street lights. Helga's feet splashed in the puddles as she entered the park. Her hair absorbed the falling water, so her dripping pigtails lost their usual bounce. She continued to the bench they had been sitting on and stopped when it came into view. A single light from a streetlamp's bulb shined down on the empty bench. She stood motionless as she looked at the vacant area. He must have gone home. Helga felt very ashamed of herself that she had even gone to check on Ian in the first place. She slowly turned and went home. 


	7. Reflections & A Dream

As Helga lay in bed, pulling the covers over her head after letting out another wet sneeze: It was another morning in the life of my miserable existence. My throat felt like I'd just swallowed a sheet of sandpaper and washed it down with carpenter nails. And a cough always seemed to be building up in my chest, forcing its way out every ten seconds. What a great way to spend the beginning of the day. In bed, sneezing all over myself, germs infesting every portion of my being while the day wasted away. I guess I was stranded in an unfortunate position; today I was supposed to be out spying on Arnold. But because of the King Rat, whose name I need not even think of, everything in my life has been blown right out of the water. One poor, miserable, wretched, dreadful, God-forsaken boy who decided he wanted to have a little fun with the outcast. And I bit the worm. I feel like a complete fool... If only I hadn't gone outside yesterday. It was all his fault I went out last night just to see if he was dead or not. It was all his fault I couldn't sleep a wink as I lay wide awake in bed. It was all his fault that I even cared.

As Phoebe sat mindlessly at the desk in her bedroom, unsuccessfully trying to think of ideas for the fair: I look down at the unintelligible scribbles staring back at me from my paper. All thoughts of Helga have been driving out any common sense as the worry of her well-being enthralls in my mind. Something about her was terribly wrong, and it wasn't just the fact that it's been a while since she's knocked Arnold's head around. It was more of an unspoken crisis; a tacit sadness lingering in her aura. And being the candid hermit that she is, it's usually up to me to open those locked doors of her heart because she's too scared to do it herself. I guess there's nothing else to do besides go to her house and help her rid of any doubts she has about the worth of getting up every morning. Maybe all she needs is a little ice cream.

As Gerald sat on his front porch, robotically tossing his baseball in the air: Well, at least I thought I had it all together. Every day seemed to be in order, just like it was supposed to be. I've got the best buddy in the world, the funnest school a kid could have, a neighborhood of kids who I've known since preschool, and... well, it just doesn't seem that way anymore. Not when the nicest girl in school decides to drop me like a hotcake. Did I do something wrong? Man, I really thought I had it going for me. Maybe I waited too long. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be. But why is everything changing so suddenly? It seems the past week had just spiraled around, flipping the neighborhood into some weird vortex kinda thing. Well, that might be a little drastic. But all I know is that Ian kid is up to something, and as long as it has to with Phoebe, I'm not going to let it happen.

As Arnold walked Abner along the park sidewalk: What a week. It's only been a few days, and already it seems as though everything at school, and even with the neighborhood kids, is changing. I'm just not sure if it's for better or worse. It's simply that... something's missing. Suddenly it seems as though personalities are shifting. But, are they? I'm not sure why I feel so strange about it. Every day's been pretty much the same. I go to school and meet Gerald at the front every morning, and Gerald hasn't really changed at all. And then we go in, go to class, we all goof off; just like we've been doing every day. Of course, like usual I have to put up with Helga. Except... it seems like she hasn't really been bugging me as much as usual... But that can't be it. That's all Helga does, bully me around. It's what she thrives off of, God knows why. Maybe I've finally just gotten used to it. But, as strange as it sounds, I kind of miss the old days. When everything felt... right. There's definitely more to that girl than meets the eye. She really has been looking, well sad. As nasty as she is, I still feel like the one she turns to for help. Especially that time when her mom was always gone for work, and when her sister was in town and driving her crazy. And she does always listen to my advice. I guess I shouldn't really be surprised. There is another side to her. I'm just not sure why she hides it all the time. Maybe I should give her a chance.

Ian lay in bed, still asleep from the late night. His eyes, heavy with exhaustion, were closed as he was still deep inside of a dream. A dream that was supposed to take him far away from the world, far away from the pain of his home.

"Mommy?" A childish Ian peeked into the doorway. He made out the figure of the young woman hunched over on the floor, her back pulsating up and down as sobs escaped from her. He dare not go in; he was not allowed in his parents' room. He was curious as to what was wrong with her, yet he was too frightened to find out. He heard footsteps from another direction. Loud footsteps. Familiar ones. Instinctively, the small boy jumped out from his spying position and turned back to the hallway. He scurried down the hall, hurrying away from his parents' bedroom. His only instinct, as much as it confused him, was to hurry away from the situation. But as much as he tried to run, the footsteps always got closer.

Ian shot up in bed. Sweat beads that had formed on his face trickled down his frightened features as heavy breaths struggled to escape his lungs. It was that dream. That dream he had years ago, when he was so much younger. Ian hated that dream. He had it frequently when he was a little boy, shortly after the incident happened. It was like he couldn't escape it. He clutched his covers with his fists, turning his knuckles pale. Why was it coming back after so long? 


	8. Take Me Drunk I'm Home

There was a grunting that could be heard in Helga's bedroom, yet there was no one to be seen. Her window was open with a trail of bed sheets tied together hanging out of it. Along the homemade rope and down the side of the building crawled Helga. Her nimble nine year old body could have easily scaled the makeshift escape rope, but being in the weak physical condition she was, the exertion caused much huffing and held-back coughs on the way down.

Her father had managed to notice that she was sick in bed, so he made her stay in bed all day. Why he was struck with such a sudden sense of parental responsibility, she did not know. But she did know that she had spent enough hours in there to slowly pull herself into the bowels of insanity and she needed to get out, even if she was sick.

When Helga reached the ground, she hopped from the barely-long enough rope and landed on the ground with a stumble.

It was evening, and the sunset was at its peak, leading Helga's path with a beautiful array of sensual colors. She decided to go to the big tree house across town, figuring she could have some alone time.

Well, she didn't, because Arnold was already there.

"What are you doing here, Football Head?" she growled as she crawled into the old wooden dwelling. Arnold looked annoyed.

"This isn't just your tree house, Helga," he replied defensively. Boy, for the first greeting of the day, she wasn't very welcoming, Arnold thought.

Despite having enough room to stand, Helga crawled on her knees over to Arnold and sat up next to him without a word. Arnold noticed her sluggish movements but didn't bother asking. She would just snap back a sarcastic comment, anyway.

Arnold was leaning against the wall as he sat, and Helga was seated cross-legged, paying no mind to her dress. They didn't speak much, each in their own little world. They could see the sunset through the open wall in front of them, and it lit an orangish glow on both of their calm faces. A few birds sang in the distance, but the sound went unnoticed by either child.

Some time passed, and Helga let out a few uncontrolled coughs; the same sickly and wheezing coughs that attacked her in bed. Arnold figured she was sick, which was maybe why she had struggled to get into the tree house.

"Are you okay?" he asked, forgetting his earlier prediction. Helga ignored him as if he may as well have not said anything at all.

He studied her dazed facial expression for a moment and resumed watching the sunset.

A little while after, Arnold began to sing softly to himself. He didn't have a deep, heart-throbbing voice, but he didn't have a cat-screech of a voice, either. It was simply... Arnold's voice. For some reason, he began reminiscing about his mother's favorite song.

Helga closed her eyes as she listened contently.

"Crazy ... I'm crazy for feelin' so lonely I'm crazy ... crazy for feelin' so blue I knew you'd love me as long as you wanted, And then someday, you'd leave me for somebody new

Worry ... why do I let myself worry? Wonderin' ... what in the world did I do? Oh, crazy ... for thinkin' that my love could hold you I'm crazy for tryin', and crazy for cryin' And I'm crazy for lovin' you

Crazy ... for thinkin' that my love could hold you I'm crazy for tryin', and crazy for cryin' And I'm crazy for lovin' you."

Helga remembered the time when Arnold got out of being beat up by Harold with his crazy lip-sync routine.

A giggle escaped from her and she sat smiling with her fingers brushed up against her lips. Arnold looked over, surprised that such a girlish sound came from the bully next to him. He studied her again, and then smiled with her. Arnold laughed out loud as he rest his head back against the wall.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, staring at the ceiling. Helga remained still in the same position as she stared off into space. Neither of them knew how out of it she really was.

After some time, Arnold's smile had naturally faded from his face. He lifted his head and looked over at Helga again. She was sitting with her legs pulled against her chest as she hugged herself protectively. The last of the fading sunlight soaked a golden shine into her hair and accented her solemn expression.

Arnold was surprised at how vulnerable she looked. Anyone that would have seen her like he did now would never have guessed in a million years that she was the terror of the fourth grade. He began to realize how spaced out she was, and had not noticed that they had been spending the evening together without ripping each other's heads off. He wondered why on earth she would come to the tree house if she was so tired.

"Helga."

She continued to stare blankly, as if she'd fallen asleep with her eyes open.

"Helga." Arnold leaned over and put his hand on her arm. Her skin was ice cold, yet he could still feel her shivering. Arnold shifted to kneel in front of her and put his hand under her bangs to feel her forehead. It was surprisingly hot.

"Helga, you're sick!" he exclaimed in surprise, as if she had not known. Of course, she was quite aware of that fact. She still did not respond, convincing Arnold she had fallen asleep with her eyes open. Suddenly, she blinked a few times to wet her eyes that were dry from staring, and groaned sleepily as she closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek against her knee before resting it there. Arnold shifted his position so he could stand up beside her and placed his hands under her arms. "Come on, Helga, we have to go."

She moaned again and tried to shift her body, but failed from lack of strength.

"Helga," he repeated sternly, trying to get her attention. Arnold shook her a little bit, then moved forward to wrap her in his arms and pull her to her feet. Helga wobbled a little bit, and lifted her head with half-lidded eyes. "Come on, we're going home." He pulled his head back to look her in the face. She didn't look back because her eyes were still fixed on the empty space in front of her. Arnold struggled to put her arm around him and led her to the ladder that led down the tree.

When they reached the ledge, Arnold looked down and gulped. The distance from the tree house to the ground had never looked so far in his life. Now how was he supposed to get her down? She certainly wasn't in any condition to climb, let alone stand.

He shifted Helga against him as her weight on his side seemed to grow heavier.

"Hey!" a voice shouted from below. Arnold quickly looked at the source of the sound and saw Ian looking sternly back up at him. His hands were on his hips.

Arnold was about to call back to him, but saw Ian rush to the ladder. He nimbly scurried up each nailed plank, hurrying not toward the two children at the top, but to the helpless Helga.

When he joined them, Arnold saw he had a water bottle with the top clenched between his teeth. Ian snapped the bottle from his mouth and unscrewed the cap.

"Set her down," he commanded. Arnold obeyed and lay the girl flat on the floor. Ian kneeled next to Helga and poured water into his hands. He then leaned closer to Helga and splashed the water onto her face. Her eyes squeezed shut for a moment, then she sighed and stopped responding.

Ian splashed more cold water on her face and rubbed the cold against her hot cheeks with his hands, trying to wake her up. The wetness finally brought her to and she looked a little more aware. Not enough to bring a surprised expression to her face at the sight of Ian, but aware nonetheless.

Ian helped Helga to her feet as Arnold looked on.

"Come on, Helga, we gotta climb down the tree," Ian said gently to her. Helga nodded, her eyes still half-lidded. Ian had his arm around her waist to support her weight, and he rubbed his hand against her cheek. "You gotta wake up, okay? You ready?" Her eyes opened a little more and she mumbled something.

"Okay, now, I'll go first." Ian turned and began to climb down the ladder. He stopped and turned to look up at Arnold and Helga.

"Alright, Arnold, help Helga down. I'll hold her from below, and you keep watch above us."

"Right."

Arnold guided Helga to the ladder, catching her from a few dangerous stumbles as she wobbled down to the climbing position. Ian waited as Helga managed to slump next to him on the ladder and then he slipped his arm around her.

"Ready?" he called aloud to them. Arnold responded. Helga did not. Good enough. Ian carefully felt for each step as he slowly lowered her down the ladder. Arnold followed at a close distance.

When they reached the bottom, Helga fell onto Ian, and he caught her before she stumbled to the ground with weak legs.

"Thanks a lot, Ian," Arnold said appreciatively. "I don't know what I would have-" He stopped when he noticed Ian was looking down into Helga's hidden face, completely ignoring him. Helga's head raised and looked back at Ian's close face.

She looked at him drunkenly for a moment, then mumbled, "I thought you liked second." Ian smiled at her. Helga still stared back with a drunk, sullen expression. Suddenly her head jerked down and she threw up.

Ian and Arnold stood next to each other as they diverted their eyes from the girl behind them. They were at the park, and Helga had taken her dress off to soak it in the pond to get rid of the mess. Ian had been wearing a shirt underneath his sweater, so he was okay.

She kneeled before the water in her t-shirt and underwear, slopping her dress on the water like a toddler. In any other state of mind, Helga wouldn't have dared let the turn of events of that entire evening take place. However, her currently having the mind of a four-year-old managed to divert her self-consciousness. Her sickness was taking a toll on her body as well as her mind. So, she didn't hear the conversation behind her, although it was within earshot.

"Why were you even up there with her?" Ian asked.

"I was just up there to think about stuff! Helga climbed up there after I'd been in there a while. Don't pin this on me. I just want to know how you found us so conveniently with a water bottle on you," Arnold replied. Each talked with a bickering tone, but the mature boys managed to avoid an argument.

"I was walking home from grocery shopping and walked past Helga's house. I figured something was up because she's got a trail of bed sheets hangin' out of her window." Arnold looked surprised.

"Huh?" Well, he was probably more confused than surprised. Ian shook his head.

"You sure put that girl through a lot." Arnold's confused expression intensified, especially since he wasn't aware that Ian had changed the subject.

"Me?" he challenged defiantly. "She's been pushing me around and bullying me ever since I've known her!"

Ian sighed, showing his annoyance. This kid was dense. He didn't bother with a comeback. They heard Helga mumble "Okay," behind them and they turned around. She was dressed again, and clean for the most part, if not soaking wet.

By now, the last of the sun was peeking over the horizon, signaling the coming darkness of night. They headed back home. Arnold's house was closest to the park, so he went inside after confirming that Helga would be all right. Ian reassured him that she would be fine, seeing that her eyes were all the way open now. Although, she was still dazed.

After that, the two continued to Helga's house. Helga managed to walk herself, but she didn't go very fast so Ian had to linger with her slow pace. They reached the house where the rope had, by then, been removed from the window. They stopped in front of the door.

"You gotta be more careful, Helga" Ian warned, knowing that she wasn't listening. She cautiously nodded, anyway. There was an awkward silence but neither kid, being who they were, felt awkward with it.

"See ya," Ian said before leaving.

"Bye," Helga said, almost to herself. She went inside. Ian stopped walking and looked behind him to study Helga's house, as he did whenever he walked past it. He always wondered what it was like inside; by the way Helga was, it didn't seem like it would be a very comfortable place. The street lights flickered on down the street, and Ian headed home. 


	9. It Came From the Night and Into Her Hear...

"Okay, a little to the left... No-no, too far. Go to the right-- yea, that's good," Mr. Simmons said as he moved his hands to direct the giant sign hung to announce the fair. "Thanks, boys." Stinky and Sid climbed down the ladder back into the crowd of kids bustling around the school hallway to set up the decorations. Everyone had their own duty, and there were only a couple hours left to work on it until the school was closed for the night. The week had passed fast, and the big day was tomorrow afternoon when school would let out early.

Some of the kids were outside on the school grounds with the day's failing sunlight as they did the work around the outdoor booths. Ian was stacking up empty cans for the bean bag throw, while Helga was on the other side of the schoolyard, ignoring him as she had been all week. She'd managed to act herself again, but avoided prolonged contact with Ian and Arnold.

After a while, when most of the kids had been herded outside, Rhonda took her place atop a picnic bench and announced her commanding presence. Everyone's attention was directed to the pamphlets she was waving in the air. Consequently, they weren't advertisements to hand out for the fair. They were for her party that would take place afterwards. She quickly made her way around the crowd, tossing a copy to every fourth grader. She batted her eyes at Ian as she passed him a copy.

"I certainly hope you'll be able to attend," she cooed, and hurried on to everyone else. Ian was smiling at her when she said that, and when she left he let out a laugh. She was weird.

Ian noticed Sheena and Nadine approach him, so he turned to see what they wanted. Apparently, each girl hadn't planned on the other's identically hasty arrival, so Ian was a bit unsure of their edgy mood. After harshly whispered bickering back and forth, they asked Ian to the party. He didn't have to answer, because the two began to argue over who he wanted to go with. He slipped away in the midst of their uncommon squabble; he had other plans. Ian went to look for Helga.

Phoebe spotted Ian wandering within the crowd and shouted out. He stopped and looked at her; she was outside of the crowded schoolyard and stood by the fence outside of the lit school. Her heart raced as his face lit up. Ian changed direction and headed over to her. She could feel her face redden and thanked the darkness.  
"Hey Phoebe, how's it goin?" he grinned. Phoebe stared at him. What a grin. Suddenly she felt like an idiot, and occupied herself by absently fidgeting her fingers in the chain link fence resting behind her. Now or never, she figured.

Helga pulled the last of the flowers from the store-bought bundle and neatly placed it in the arrangement where it was assigned. She fiddled with crumpled petals for the finishing touches and crumbled up the bag.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed in surprise as a stray thorn in the bag stuck into her finger. She stared at it for a moment and plucked it out of her finger. A small trail of blood began to trickle onto her skin, so she stuck her fingertip into her mouth.

Arnold approached her and looked over the stand she'd set up.

"That looks really good, Helga. I didn't know you did flower arranging." Helga removed the finger from her mouth to snap back at him.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Flower Boy--buzz off." Arnold scratched his arm thoughtfully, wondering if he should be grateful or not that she was back to normal.

"You goin' to the party?"

Helga stared at her injured finger. "No." She didn't see Arnold's disappointed expression.

"Well, I hope you'll change your mind. It'll be fun!" He inched a little closer and nudged her playfully. Helga turned her head and shot him an annoyed look. He smiled back and left her alone with the flowers. Helga's pouted expression softened as she felt a little sad that she wasn't going. But she really didn't want to, and had already decided it best to avoid the hustle and bustle.

Suddenly Phoebe came over and greeted her with a smile in hopes of cheering up her friend.

"Hello, Helga," she said. Helga returned the greeting half-heartedly and waited for the question.

"No, I'm not going to the party," she replied.

"Oh, come on, Helga. Just for an hour." Helga looked over at her. "One hour. That's it. Then you can be done."

"Whatever," Helga mumbled indifferently. Phoebe's smile grew in hope that she had just won.

"Really? Well, alright, then. We can get ready together if you want. And we-" she stopped when Helga pushed herself past her and left the school. Helga just needed to be alone. She didn't want to go to a stupid party.

The walk in the darkness felt good, and Helga knew when she reached the spot. She stopped and dug her hands in the front pockets of the sweater she wore over her dress as she looked up at the dark silhouette of the tree house. The silence felt good, too. But in that silence she heard a voice behind her. She turned and vaguely saw a dark figure approach.

"I followed you, this time," Ian admitted playfully. Their voices were crisp in the night air as they talked for the first time all day. "Are you going to Rhonda's party?" Helga instantly felt her frustration reach its boiling point.

"Sheesh, why is everyone asking me that!? Who gives if I'm going or not, anyway? No, ok?! No, I'm not going. Parties are for social weenies with nothing to do but gather in herds to mindlessly sip their way drunk while gossiping about whatever nonexistent excitement is occurring in their otherwise dull and meaningless lives!"

Ian was quiet as Helga got herself back together from the outburst.

"They're serving alcohol?"

Helga exhaled obnoxiously to show her apparent annoyance. "You never get it, do you Ian?!" she shot back. Ian chuckled.

"No, no, I'm just kidding. I was just wondering, that's all. Well, I guess I'll see ya tomorrow at school then, Helga." He waved despite the slight darkness and left. After he was gone, Helga turned and looked back up at the tree house. Then she climbed it as she had yesterday, knowing she would be alone this time. Helga slowly made her way up and into it as she carefully felt for each step in the darkness. She walked over to the side where the moon was shining into the small room and gazed toward the cloudy, starless sky. The same sky that she and Arnold happily gazed at before.

Why did they leave the clubhouse? She couldn't remember. All she could remember was sitting quietly, alone with Arnold in the miniature house, her thoughts wandering to the question of if that was what it was like to sit home as a married couple; not saying anything, but just enjoying each other's company. Kind of like a silent conversation. And she'd decided, in her temporary childish state of mind, that her and Arnold were married. Sitting in their own little house, not arguing like her parents did, and not busy with work until late at night. Arnold would not get a job as time-consuming as Bob's because he would want to spend time with his wife. He would want to spend time with Helga.

Helga, knowing she was alone, laughed as she recalled her previous drunken thoughts. Man, she really was out of it yesterday! But for some strange reason, she didn't mind the feeling. The feeling of not having to snap some sarcastic comment back at anything he said, the feeling of peacefully sitting next to Arnold and not saying anything as he sung to himself (well, she had decided he was singing to her), the feeling of his arms wrapped around her, him bravely carrying her down the--Helga's thoughts were immediately intercepted by a new wave of memories. She saw Ian's worried face hovering over hers, the feel of his hands against her cheeks, the warmth of his body and the firmness of his grip as he lowered her down the ladder, and the soft smile as he propped up her weak body when they reached the ground.

"Oh no..." Helga groaned sickeningly, lowering herself to her knees. She felt as weak as she had been earlier, except instead of being overcome with nausea, her remorse and distress weakened her. It was the same awful feeling she'd had lying in bed that night. Desperate for comfort from the confusion overwhelming her, Helga dug into her sewn pocket. She frantically rummaged through every one of her pockets, feeling only emptiness between her fingers. Her locket! Where was her locket? Helga paused and remembered something else. The locket had slipped from her fingers, and now it was lying somewhere on her floor. She had forgotten all about it. Helga felt her eyes sting at the awful weakness she felt now, and her vulnerability was at a new high as a wave of sorrowful emotions rolled into Helga's confused heart. She felt like everything was changing. She hated change. Helga liked the familiarity of a normal, day-to-day life. When things changed, Helga lost control. She could not handle not having control of her life.

She leaned forward while still on her knees and rested against the windowsill. There was nothing to hear Helga's first tears but the darkness and the lonely moon in the sky.

The school grounds were bustling with lively giggles and chatter of the school children being let out into the waiting fair. The smaller children were especially anxious; they had watched the gradual construction of the event all week, and waited impatiently for the day they would be set free into the wonderful looking festival.

The fourth graders were not as antsy, having been able to work on it all week, but they were certainly proud of how good everything looked. Mr. Simmons, especially, was beaming like sunshine at the work they had put together. The day went fast, and the sun seemed to move quickly across the sky. The soothing glow of the coming evening was what summoned the rest of the town out to enjoy the fair. Parents and city workers all came to have a good time and support PS118.

There were many stands set up for display, the loudest being the water dunk in which Curly sat upon the chair above the tank, laughing like a madman and taunting the thrower. His insane behavior of dancing on the seat accompanied by random noises certainly attracted more customers than any other booth. Rhonda had set up a fashion consultation booth with a row of third graders lined up to hear advice on becoming as cool as the older fourth graders. Phoebe and Helga had a Japanese calligraphy booth, while Gerald and Arnold had a stand for trading baseball cards. Their booths were only up for a short time because they were anxious to experience the rest of the festival.

Arnold and Gerald were the first to close, and Gerald eagerly directed Arnold to the calligraphy stand. When they got there, Phoebe was the only one attending, and she was in the middle painting a child's name on rice paper. Her face was scrunched in concentration as her fingers skillfully trailed the painted black brush along in wispy writing. Gerald leaned over and an impressed expression grew on his face.

"Hey, that's pretty good," Arnold said, peering over Gerald's shoulder. Phoebe finished and looked at them with a smile.

"Thanks." She handed it to the happy child who scampered off with his prize.

"Where's Helga? Shouldn't she be helping you?" Gerald asked.

"Well, she said she had some previous engagements to attend to." Gerald looked disappointed.

"Guess you can't come with us to the rest of the fair, then," he said. Phoebe put her brush back and folded up the paper.

"Actually, I'm just about done, myself," she said. But then she interrupted Gerald's brightened expression as she added, "But..." and paused.

Phoebe didn't need to explain, because Ian's arrival explained. Arnold looked at each person, not understanding. He would have thought that Ian would be off finding wherever Helga was, like he had been doing recently.

"C'mon Phoebe, there's a portable laser tag building on the other side of the school." They left and Gerald stared. He looked a little mad at the spoiling of his plan but pushed it aside and walked in the other direction after kicking at the ground. Arnold saw his friend leave, but hurried next to him.

"Um, Gerald, I'll catch you later, okay?" Arnold asked, unsure whether or not it was safe to leave his friend's side. "I've gotta go find some... thing."

"Yeah, sure. Okay." Gerald said, ignoring what Arnold just said.

Arnold ran off and left the bright lights of the school grounds. He walked along the dark sidewalks and eventually reached the right house. He knocked on the door and felt relieved when Big Bob didn't answer the door. Instead, it was just who he wanted to see. The girl looked at him dully. Arnold didn't greet her at first, but instead pointed to the bag in her hands.

"Aren't those gross?" he asked, pointing to the dried pork loins. Her face remained stone-like. "Aren't you coming to the fair?"

"...No," she said, adding sarcastic emphasis to her voice for good measure.

"Can I come in?" Arnold said, waiting for her to shove him down the steps. She didn't. Instead, she went back inside and left the door open. A gracious invitation coming from her. Arnold followed and they went upstairs. Big Bob was snoring on the recliner, and Miriam was asleep on the kitchen table with a neat little puddle of drool beneath her mouth.

They sat at the top of the stairs; she would never let him in her room, anyway.

"How 'bout you get ready and we can head back to the fair?" He tried again.

"Listen Arnold, I don't want to go. I just want to stay home and-"

"Wallow in your own self pity," Arnold finished.

"No!"

"C'mon, you'll have fun." he got up and took a hold of her wrist. Helga distastefully shook him off.

"I said I don't want to go! Excuse me, Mr. Do-Right, but I prefer you stop coming to me every time I feel like being anti-social to persuade me to come and do whatever stupid stuff everyone else is doing!"

Now, Arnold knew she was a sour and stubborn person, but she was acting a bit out of character. Of course, he knew she had pulled through every time, and that she really was a nice person underneath that shell of hers. He was determined to get past that wall of hers sometime. Well, she had gone to the baseball game, hadn't she? He took her wrist again.

"C'mon, you can't sit at home. Everyone's there." Helga pulled back again, but got up next to him and stomped down the stairs. This is ridiculous, she thought. Arnold followed with a smirk on his face. Good old Helga.

They walked down the street in the darkness toward the faint lights brightening behind the apartment buildings in front of them.

"Where is everyone?" Helga asked aloud, noting the absence of the other students.

"I don't know. Around, I guess. We could go by the rides and check them out." They headed to the other side of the fair and Helga didn't notice how her face lit up at the sight of the spinning, racing machines awaiting her. Arnold did.

"Come on, let's go on the Tilt-A-Whirl first!" he shouted, catching her off guard as he ran ahead. Helga happily followed.

They screamed and clutched the safety bar, sometimes daring each other to let go and raise their arms in the air, feeling as if they would fly right out of their seat. The ride was exhilarating, and wasn't near enough to quench their thirst for excitement. They went on every ride, and spun and twisted their way around each nauseating mechanism. Both were not wavered by the jolts of the ride, and Arnold was silently thankful for Helga's strong stomach. Lila on the other hand was not as worthy of his gratitude.

Finally they decided to go on the calmer Ferris wheel. Arnold bought two tickets and they climbed into a booth. He couldn't help but be a little excited about having alone time with Helga; it was always relieving to see her other side, the side he had always wondered about. But it was quickly cut short, because the ride ended before it began.

"Phoebe!" Helga said when she spotted her friend. She quickly climbed out, and caught Arnold off guard so he couldn't stop her.

"Wait!" he called after her. He quickly got out and followed, hurrying past the confused attendant.

"Oh, Helga!" Phoebe said, surprised but glad of her friend's arrival. "You came!"

"Yeah, well, not much else to do around here, ya know?" she replied, feigning indifference. It didn't take more than a moment for Helga to notice Ian's accompanying presence, and it was then Arnold caught up to them. He didn't say anything. The girls decided to ignore the presence of the boys beside them.

"So, are you going to the party, too?" Phoebe asked. Helga shrugged.

"I dunno. It's not like I have anything to wear."

"Oh, we'll find something." The two girls chattered, looking forward to the night's coming occurrences with a newfound enthusiasm.

Arnold, meanwhile, was a little taken aback by Phoebe being with Ian like that. The thought left when he spotted Gerald. He ran over to him

"Gerald, where have you been?" Gerald managed to regain his normal, somewhat optimistic mood.

"Nowhere in particular." They walked back to the others, but only met Phoebe.

"Where'd Helga and Ian go?" Arnold asked.

"Ian had to talk to her about something," Phoebe responded. She really did like Ian, but managed to put together just now that something strange was going on between Helga and Ian. She couldn't explain it, nor could anyone, but nonetheless it was something and Phoebe felt she was treading in delicate waters. She covered her thoughts and diverted Arnold's and Gerald's attention from their absence by inviting them to join her for the rest of the fair.

It was dark without the lights of the fair to light up the rest of the distanced streets, but it mattered to neither Helga nor Ian. They sat on the curb of the empty street corner.

"So did you and Arnold have fun?" Ian asked, without any jealousy to sour his tone. Helga nodded, but realized it was useless in the dark. Either way, Ian felt the response in her quietness and understood.

"I didn't know you liked Phoebe. You know, like-like." Helga felt ridiculous using Lila's stupid phrase but knew no other way to put it.

"I don't. I like you." The blatant response cued a pause void of any remote element of surprise.

"So why'd you take her?"

"She asked."

That did surprise Helga a little. But just a little.

"Will you go to the party with me?" Ian asked, completely changing the subject, as usual.

"Why do you think I'd say yes?"

"Because you're jealous that I took Phoebe to the fair."

"What!?" Helga shot back defensively. "I am not!"

Ian had no reply. Helga couldn't wait in his silence and added as she stood to her feet to look down at him, "Why do you think I'd be jealous? That's insane! I'd never be jealous in a million years, Cat Boy! You're letting your idiotic wishful thinking get ahead of you!" She stammered a little and continued to herself, "I can't believe you-" but realized she was rambling and quickly shut up, hoping to God she wasn't jealous because honestly, she didn't know. Helga finally sat back down without another word. She contemplated in the pause of their conversation whether it was really worth it to go. Helga decided she didn't want to answer.

"When does it start?" Ian looked at his watch and turned on the glow. The faint green light illuminated his face from the rest of the darkness.

"Hour and a half."

Helga hated making decisions. It was such a pain.

"Let's just go back to the fair," Ian finally said at length. He got up and waited for Helga to join him. She didn't.

Except, she asked in a small voice, "Ian?"

He sat back down. "Yeah?"

Helga paused. "Is that why you took me out here? To ask me that?"

"No."

She paused again, thoughts in mind.

"Then why?"

Ian didn't answer at first as he sat in contemplation, knowing but unmoving.

"Helga..." he started to question, but stopped. She waited for him to continue. "Helga, why do you love Arnold?"

The question caught her off guard. "Why?" she repeated from his inquiry. She sighed; she didn't even know for sure, herself. She had never been asked, of course. Plus she had forgotten that Ian even knew about it since he had never mentioned to anyone, even her, about what happened at her locker that day. But she remembered now. Helga decided there was nothing to do but drop her veil a little, knowing that Ian really did want to know her. Besides, the veil she put up all the time was starting to choke her a bit, even if she didn't notice.

It seemed a little easier to answer in the darkness, for some reason. "He gave me his umbrella."

Ian waited for a moment, going over the unexpected answer in his mind.

"...That's it?"

Helga could read his confusion and uncertainty, expecting it.

"I don't understand."

"I know you don't. But there's some things not worth understanding." The answer didn't satisfy Ian.

"How can you possibly love someone just because they gave you an umbrella?"

Helga knew she couldn't explain it to him. She couldn't explain it to anyone, let alone herself. But she tried.

"Ian, have you ever been alone? Truly alone?" Ian knew such an idea to be an understatement for him. But this he understood.

"Yes."

"Well, when Arnold gave me his umbrella that rainy morning of my first day at kindergarten, it was the first time I... well... it was the first time that awful feeling left me. I didn't feel alone anymore."

Ian understood a little more of what she meant, but still couldn't completely grasp the concept. He simply sat in his thoughts, cursing the fact that he was too late. Ian knew he would give anything to be in that position; to be the one that made her feel loved in kindergarten. He wouldn't have hesitated to be there for her all those years. But he knew that he could wish as hard as he could and nothing would change the past. All there was left was the present.

He questioned her some more about it, but Helga failed to come up with the right words. Ian had brought up the subject of noticing how upset her feelings toward Arnold seemed to make her.

"No, it's not like that," Helga replied calmly. "It's hard to explain." She shifted herself and continued. "I don't love Arnold for the sole purpose of him loving me back. I just... kinda watch over him, you know? Love him from a distance. I don't expect anything from it." She paused to think. "It would be nice, though... if..."

"If he loved you back."

Helga didn't answer. But she knew he was right. Oh, was he right.

In the darkness she could only feel Ian lean over and instinctively wrap his arms around her. Helga submitted to his touch and turned to bury herself into him. Ian's arms fit perfectly around her, almost as if it were what they were made for. Helga moved her head against his shirt, snuggling into his scent. He smelled good, but the scent was still unfamiliar. It wasn't Arnold's wonderful, musty scent of baseball, boyhood, and rainfall shampoo.

Ian placed his head onto hers, causing Helga's previous thoughts of Arnold to unconsciously drift away. 


	10. Exposure Part I

"Did you hear that?" Helga said as she lifted her head, looking around the darkness for the sound that took her from her thoughts. Ian didn't reply. She moved away from Ian to get up, a bit embarrassed that she let herself open up like that, now that the jolted noise brought her back to the real world. The cold in the air seeped back into her skin as they broke apart, and the fact that it was actually noticeable was new to Helga. The cold had, after all, always been a part of her.

Ian pulled himself to his feet as well, seeing that Helga was ready to head back. "Probably just the wind. Let's go back." Both of them knew there was no wind, but without another word they started toward the fair. Suddenly there was another crash and Ian wheeled around. Two glowing eyes peered back at him; it was just a cat. The fast beating of his heart still lingered from the sudden panic, and the small mew seemed to mock him. He turned back around to catch up to Helga, who was still walking ahead of him. He had always hated the dark.

Arnold spotted the two figures emerging from the dark streets. Gerald and Phoebe, who were next to him as they stood in line for food, did not. Arnold's eyes remained on Ian, studying the emotionless expression as they approached. Ian did not return the stare, although fully conscious of it.

"Oh, hi guys," Phoebe said as she noticed their presence. They smiled convincingly, still in their own little bubble of arguments and confused affection with each other.

Ian turned a shoulder from the others as he whispered to Helga, "Are you coming to the party with me?"

Helga leaned back. "No." They straightened, and no more words were exchanged.

The kids got their unhealthy food and headed to the large group of fourth graders crowded onto a picnic table. Everyone had eventually found each other and sat together, planning what they would do at Rhonda's party. They noticed the new addition and turned their attention.

Lila spoke up, saying, "Are you guys coming too? Looks like we have everyone, this will be ever so much fun!"

"Well, I'm going home to get ready," Eugene said. "I want to look my brightest!" The happy boy jumped from the picnic table to land gracefully onto the ground. Well, not really. "I'm okay," he groaned, his face smashed into the concrete from the trip. Everyone got up and started heading home to get ready, and rid of their current clothes into ones that didn't smell like barbequed smoke and crowds of people.

Phoebe tagged along beside Helga. "Are we going to get ready together?"

She sighed. "No, Phoebe. We're not going to get ready together. I'm going to go home, and go to bed." Helga's placid voice worried Phoebe. Phoebe didn't know, however, of Helga's thoughts. Helga was emotionless now, ashamed of herself. She didn't know why. She felt dirty, betrayed. All she wanted to do was stay home, like she should have before. Phoebe looked down at her feet as she walked.

"Well... then... I'll go home with you. I just don't want you to be alone." They stopped walking. Helga looked over at her friend, hating her for her sincerity and loyalty. She wanted to snap. Yell at Phoebe for not thinking of herself, for never thinking of herself. She wanted Phoebe to go to the party. She wanted to at least explain to Phoebe that she would be fine. That she would try to be fine. But Helga could not bring herself to talk; she was just so tired. So she turned and continued home. Phoebe followed.

A few hours passed, and Helga sat up on her bed. Phoebe sat on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed as she picked at her nails. Both girls were very quiet. The party had started, but they still did not move from the bedroom. Helga let her body fall and flopped her back onto the bed with a small bounce. She stared at the blank ceiling, the whiteness and emptiness matching her thoughts. Finally, after a long, silent stare into space, Helga said aloud, "Phoebe, go to the party."

Phoebe finally moved herself from her previously motionless position and crawled onto the bed next to Helga. "Then you come with me."

"I don't want to go." Helga knew Phoebe wanted to go, though. She could feel Phoebe's pain from missing one of the most exciting events of the year.

"Then I'm not going."

Helga sat up and stared her friend in the eyes. The stare was like concrete. "Phoebe, I am not going. You want to go. GO." Phoebe was frustrated by the lack of openness Helga had with her all of a sudden.

"Helga, tell me what the matter is." They stared at each other for a while, each daring the other to back down. It wasn't long before Phoebe saw Helga's stone face grow sadder and sadder, and knew that her thoughts were starting to eat at her. "Helga," she said quietly.

Helga was petrified to tell Phoebe. She was petrified to say the words aloud. She was petrified to think. The last thing she wanted to do was tell Phoebe. Tell Phoebe what she wasn't sure of, because she didn't know what it would lead to. She was so confused... that's all she was anymore. Just so confused...

"I don't know," Helga said, her voice severely choked up by holding back tears. She shook her head. "I don't know I don't know I don't know..." Phoebe was almost frightened at seeing Helga almost begin to cry; she'd never seen Helga agonized this much, and didn't know what to do.

"What did you and Ian talk about?" She asked, suspicious.

Helga stared at her friend with red, puffy, and struggling eyes. Her face was distorted in the utter confusion she felt inside. "Phoebe, do I really love Arnold?" Her words were still garbled from her fight against crying. Phoebe's expression changed to worry.

"What? What do you mean?" She knew well enough that Helga's love for Arnold kept her going every day, because the passion it instilled in her certainly wasn't a negative one. Arnold meant the world to her, and such an emotion in jeopardy would certainly throw Helga into an unbalanced state of mind. "Why wouldn't you?"

A wet sniff came before another forced sentence. "All he did was give me his umbrella." Her volume changed into a whisper, and she looked down, unable to keep eye contact. "Just a stupid umbrella..."

Phoebe was getting pretty unsettled. Maybe others would have thought the situation to be absurd, but Phoebe knew how much Arnold cared for Helga. She could see it in his eyes, and the way he looked at her. The way he has looked at her since the day they met. Helga had no idea just how much Arnold has cared for her from the start, because she was so wrapped up in her own secrets. Phoebe propped herself up onto her knees and leaned toward Helga to look her in the face. Helga quickly looked up and continued before Phoebe could speak.

"Don't you understand, Phoebe? Arnold hasn't done anything for me! I've been head over heels for the boy practically my entire life, and why? He's never even done anything for me to feel this way! I'm such an idiot!" Helga curled up into herself and buried her face into her knees. She knew what she had said to Ian. But now she realized how much it hurt. It did hurt loving Arnold, with the love so one-sided. Sure, she loved him from a distance, but it was so hard now. She didn't know why, but it was just so horribly difficult now. Was Ian right? Is one little encounter really worth that much? She didn't know. She had no idea. Disorder stormed around her heart like a swarm of bees, almost inflicting as much pain as if it weren't just a metaphor. Phoebe backed off a little.

"Helga, don't you remember all the times Arnold helped you through the rough times? He's been there for you, right when you needed him." Phoebe's calm, comforting voice softened Helga's snuffles, signaling her attention. "Remember when your mom was at work all the time? That was terrible, wasn't it?" Helga nodded, still hiding her face. "Did Arnold just blow you off? Did he tell you to deal with it yourself? Or did he help you, without hesitation, like I think he would do?" Helga did not reply. "The Arnold I know would have helped you." A pause, and another hesitant nod. "Who compliments you when your day is gloomy and hopeless? Who offers you the last pudding cup when they're all out? Who calls you up after spilling paint on you? He wouldn't have called if he wasn't dwelling on it all day." Phoebe tried to think of every good thing Helga had happily caroled to her whenever Arnold had brightened her day. Helga's breathing was quiet now, signaling her composure. "And remember," she began to chuckle," remember when you had amnesia, and Arnold took care of you all day? Well I don't know if you remember that, but I had to watch it all day." She added jokingly, "It was almost sickening." Helga tried not to smile, but the memory of that day warmed her.

"Tell you what. I'm going to head home to get my stuff together for the party. You get ready too, and I'll meet you there." Phoebe knew she had to trust Helga to show up, and it was largely based on trust. She didn't know if her friend would pull through and show up. Helga nodded, and sat up. Her face was emotionless, and her hair was tousled. Phoebe gave Helga a quick hug.

"We better hurry, we're late. ...I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Alright."

"Good." Phoebe got up, made sure Helga would be okay, and left, hoping for the best.

"Criminey," Helga muttered to herself as she stared at the reflection in the mirror. She was dressed up and ready to go, but completely unsatisfied with her appearance. Her blue-green dress was bland, her hair still in its routine pigtails, and her face as make-up-less as it always was. Helga headed downstairs, and sat at the bottom of the steps, staring at the front door. Would she go or not? She still felt pretty crummy. "One hour," she told herself. "One hour and I'll head home. Just like Phoebe said before." Helga got up and slowly opened the door. Feeling the outside air beckon to her, she suddenly felt terribly unprepared and almost slammed the door back shut. The sight of the boy sitting on her steps was what prevented her from doing so. He turned around, and Helga looked back at him.

"Come on, Helga," Phoebe said impatiently to herself, checking her watch for the tenth time. She walked from the punch bowl and looked at all the kids dancing and enjoying each other's company. Gerald, Arnold, and Ian were nowhere to be seen.

"Hi, Phoebe!" Lila sang as she spotted the small girl. Phoebe smiled and greeted her. "Have you been listening to the local band Rhonda booked? They're ever so wonderful, aren't they?" Phoebe looked behind Lila at the four girl band on the small constructed stage in the corner of the ballroom. The lead singer's voice echoed throughout the room seeing as it wasn't made for a live performer, but their music still maintained its upbeat sound and it sounded good. "Hey, let's go check out what everyone else is up to!" she sang happily, taking Phoebe's wrist and excitedly leading the reluctant girl into the crowd.

Gerald spotted Lila guiding Phoebe through the crowd and perked up, seeing she had come after all. He started towards their direction, and soon caught up with them. Lila kept up her perkiness and happily greeted Gerald.

"Hello there, Gerald! Are you having fun? I was just saying to Phoebe here that we should start a group game, like bobbing for apples or something!" Her smile was anything but contagious.

"Actually, I-" Phoebe began, but Lila interrupted her.

"I'll go check with Rhonda! Be right back!" The girl disappeared, leaving Phoebe uncomfortably alone with Gerald. She couldn't look at him like she used to. Not when she still liked Ian.

Rhonda scoffed at such an absurd idea. "Lila, I do not host such disorderly games. As an honorable member of the Lloyd household, I do not have a wooden barrel in my home, nor would I ever stick my head in it to bite at an apple like a common animal." She continued, saying with an even more sophisticated tone, "I will, however, host a dancing contest." Her pride at such a wonderful idea didn't fail to beam from her face. "We've never had one before, have we?"

"Why, I don't believe so. It sounds ever so wonderful!" The girls headed to the stage to announce the contest.

"I'm glad you came," Gerald said sheepishly. He felt better knowing that Phoebe hadn't shown up with Ian. But her conversation did not correspond with his.

"Where's Arnold?" Gerald looked around.

"I dunno, I haven't seen him." Phoebe felt a little relieved. Maybe he had gone to Helga's house to check on her when he saw she had not come. Suddenly the music stopped and there was a tapping on the microphone. All attention was directed to Rhonda, on stage.

"Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, but I have decided to spice up the party a bit. There will be a dance competition in a half hour, and everyone is invited. There are to be two partners for each entry, and I, of course, will be the judge." She looked down at the people beckoning to her. "Some other people, too. Well, that's it, you've got a half hour. Thank you!" She hopped off the stage, the music resumed, and people went to find their friends and pair up.

"Do you want to be my partner?" Gerald asked, seeing the opportunity. Phoebe turned to him and smiled reluctantly. She didn't know how to dance.

"Sure," she replied halfheartedly.

After signing up, Phoebe spotted Arnold at the front door. She rushed over.

"Arnold, hello!" He smiled back at her.

"Hey Phoebe." She looked behind him, and turned her head to look around the area where they were. "What?"

"Where's Helga?"

He looked puzzled. "I don't know. Why?"

She stopped to look back at him. "She didn't come with you?"

Arnold shook his head. He saw her facial expression. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Where's Ian?"

"I don't know."

Phoebe felt she should have known better. Of course Ian would show up at her house. He probably did, and now she didn't know if Helga would show up or not. She walked away back into the party and Arnold caught up to her.

"What's going on?"

"Well, Helga's not here. Ian isn't here, either. You figure it out, Arnold, because I don't know." Arnold was almost beside himself as he felt a twinge of bitterness, but remembered what he had thought earlier and composed himself.

"Well, whatever. They'll show up soon."

Phoebe continued into the crowd to find Gerald. Arnold took another look at the empty hallway by the front door.

"I said I didn't want to go to the party with you. I said no. Why did you even bother coming over here?"

"I never said anything about going to the party. I just wanted to come over here. Is it that bad? ...Besides, parties are for 'social weenies,' remember?" Helga didn't reply. She quietly shut the door and took a seat next to Ian on the front steps.

"Well, now what?" Helga asked tiredly.

"I dunno."

Helga stared at her Sesame Street band-aid. She wondered if she would make it to the party or not.

"We could make out," Ian offered nonchalantly.

"That's not funny."

"Sorry."

After a while, Helga got up and walked down the last step, then headed down the sidewalk.

"Helga?" Ian said to her. Helga stopped and turned. "You look nice." She stared at him, then turned back and continued to Rhonda's house. Ian joined her.

Arnold stood at the balcony in the back of the house and stared into the midnight blue sky. The dark blue hue outside reflected onto his thoughtful face. He heard someone come up beside him and saw Lila. She looked pretty.

"Hi, Arnold," she said quietly.

"Hi, Lila."

"You look ever so down, is something the matter?"

"No, I'm okay. Thanks, Lila." She paused to study his face.

"Would you be interested in joining the dance competition with me?" Arnold looked back at her, taken off guard by the offer. Partner with Lila? Of course he would; after all, who could deny such an opportunity with their crush? Arnold looked over the balcony and stared at the distanced ground below. Who could deny that...?

"I... I don't know."

"Come on, it will be ever so much fun!" He didn't answer, because he didn't want to say no. He was convinced that if he answered now, he would say no, and Arnold wasn't about to let himself turn down a dance competition with the object of his affections.

"Arnold?"

He replied only with a sigh.

"We only have a few minutes," she continued. Arnold shifted his position against the marble balcony.

"...no... That's okay." 'Idiot!' he yelled inside.

"Oh... well... ok, Arnold. I'm heading inside, then come in soon, okay? It's getting chilly out here." And with that, she left, leaving Arnold alone once more. He could feel the absence of anyone around him the moment she quietly went back inside.

Arnold wondered why on earth he would turn down Lila after being asked to join her to dance. He loved to dance, and he certainly liked Lila. It was just...

"Holy cow, this is Rhonda's house?!" Ian exclaimed, taken aback by the enormity of the building.

"C'mon, Cat Boy, you're holdin' us up," Helga snapped.

The moment the door opened, the faint noise turned into loud music and conversation flooding the home. They entered and Ian's eyes studied every corner of the interior as they walked, staring like a child in a candy store. Most of the people were gathered near the stage, but Helga kept her distance. Her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the small dark-haired girl in glasses. She didn't see her.

"C'mon, cheer up, Helga. We're weenies now!" Ian said cheerfully. He saw that Helga was still staring at everyone else. "What is it?"

Her attention turned back to Ian. "Huh? Nothing. I'm gonna go find the punch bowl."

"And spike it?" Ian tagged along behind Helga like a little puppy.

Arnold heard the faint noise inside die down, and figured the competition was starting. He stood up straight and turned to head inside.

Ian sat on a chair placed in front of Helga as they sat next to the food table. His giddy expression had left as he looked at the sad girl. "What's the matter?"

She stared at her knees. "I wanna go home."

"Ohhh, come on, we just got here! We're going to have fun! It'll be great!"

Helga wondered how in the world she ended up at the party with Ian, anyway. She had said 'no.' But now, well, she didn't feel 'no.' Maybe it would be fun to be with Ian tonight. She looked up to see him studying her.

"Can I do something with your hair?" he asked thoughtfully.

"What are you talking about?" Helga asked, suddenly retracting her optimism. Without another word, Ian leaned forward and ran his fingers through her hair. She stared at his close face, his eyes diverted from hers. He pulled her pigtails out and the ribbon fluttered onto her lap. Then he dragged his fingers through her locks of hair and Helga felt her hair fall neatly around her shoulders. She still stared at him. With a final brush of his hand against her bangs, Ian leaned back a little to study her.

At that moment, Helga saw Arnold walking and stop a short distance behind Ian. He stared at Helga, and Helga looked back at him. His face turned white. Ian did not realize that Helga's heart began to beat faster and faster as she watched the look on Arnold's face. She didn't understand.

Suddenly, Helga shot up from her seat and darted away from them. Ian turned in surprise at the sudden jolt. He saw Arnold and they looked at each other, completely oblivious of the other's thoughts. And both were horribly confused.

Helga kicked her heels off in frustration as she moved as fast she could down the staircase. She reached the bottom and wheeled around to head to the back of the house. She ran into the back doors and her body slammed into them as she aggressively pushed them open. They swung apart and Helga hurried across the grass toward the pond in front of her. She suddenly stopped before she reached it and carefully approached, feeling as if she was approaching an angry, growling dog. Helga slowly peered into the water. In the moonlight shining into the placid, almost motionless water, who else should look back up at her but Cecile.

Then the nightmare began. 


	11. Exposure Part II

It wasn't long before Ian had caught up to Helga. He slowed to a stop a few yards away from her, and Helga turned to look back at him. She simply stared at him, speechless.

"... Helga, what's going on," Ian asked sternly. His gaze was determined and intent, not void of emotion like Helga's.

"I... I--" She shook her head from all the flustering sensations of panic and started to run past Ian. She closed her eyes, wanting to disappear. She was ready to sell her soul to be able to disappear; anything was better than this. Ian's strong grip on her arm immediately stopped her impulsive sprint. She wheeled around and quickly looked at Ian, taken off guard by his restraint. Ian looked back at her, and the sudden fear in her eyes startled him. He unconsciously loosened his grip, while Helga slipped out of his hand and continued her escape. Once again, Helga stopped in her tracks. Now she stared back at Arnold, who was in front of her. He looked dazed, and Helga didn't notice the ribbon in his hand. Perhaps dazed wasn't the word, because the look on his face was more of a mixture of hurt, confusion, disbelief, and probably a million other thoughts that were running through that football shaped head.

"Helga... you...?"

Helga was frantic now, and stumbled with her impulsive words. "No, Arnold, it's not what you think! I didn't--"

"What's going on!?" Ian cried to them. Helga immediately stopped talking and a rush of sickening regret flooded her. She felt herself shaking, and in another attempt burst into another dash away from them.

"Helga!" Arnold shouted. Ian and Arnold wasted no time in running after her. She made it to the front lawn, but it was there where Ian and Arnold reached her. They clutched the arms of the hysterical girl.

"Let me go!" she screamed in anger. After a moment, they obediently released her, when she fell to her knees. Helga didn't bother to continue running.

"Arnold, let me explain. It's not what you think--"

"Not what I think? How could I possibly think anything about this? I have no idea what--"

"Let her explain," Ian growled through his teeth. Arnold became quiet, as well as Helga. She took a deep sigh.

"I... I did it. I was Cecile. But only because I heard something about your penpal not coming, and I didn't want you to be stood up." Helga kept her face diverted to the ground and away from the boys still standing behind her, but then decided to look Arnold in the eyes to intensify the lie. "It's no big deal, o-KAY Football Head? Don't think you can get all gooey on me for what I did, because I still think you're nothing but a big loser." Arnold looked back at her with an emotionless face, making her nervous.

"Arnold, leave for a minute, okay? I need to talk to Helga." Ian said sternly. Arnold turned a determined stare back at the boy.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Ian went up to him and grabbed his shirt collar. "I. Need. To. Talk. To. Helga," he emphasized menacingly. Arnold looked mad, but shoved Ian's grip off and walked a short distance away.

Helga still sat beside her legs, staring at the ground and hiding her face with her hair. Ian kneeled next to her.

"Helga, what happened? Why aren't you telling me anything?"

Helga freaked at the question and shot to her feet. "Since when am I expected to tell you anything, Ian?!" Helga felt as if she were sobbing, yet her eyes were still dry from her anxiety. "Ian, you're the one who came barging into my life and SCREWING EVERYTHING UP! I don't even LIKE you! Just get out of my face, okay!?"

"What are you so afraid of!?" Ian yelled back. Helga's face regained its frightened uncertainty and she was immediately silenced. Ian's voice quieted a little without the angry volume to fight against. "What are you so afraid of?" he repeated, still angry. "Afraid of change? That things won't always go your own way? Why are you being such a coward about it? Life sucks, Helga, we both know that. But you don't have to be so submissive to every little thing that happens around you."

Helga didn't let him continue, because she immediately became enraged. "Coward? Submissive?! What are you talking about!? I am not a coward! I've been fighting my way through this miserable world my entire life, completely on my own and you're calling me a coward?!" Helga forcefully clutched Ian's shirt and shoved him into her face with more intimidation than she had ever used in her entire life. She was ready to rip his head off at such comments, and was not about to let common sense get in the way. Her anger consumed her so entirely that she was at a loss for what else to scream at him. Ian was not faltered, and he just stared back into her hateful eyes as she forcefully held him.

"You're afraid to love me," he said flatly. Helga continued to stare hatefully. She wanted nothing more than for her eyes to melt away at him, and make him disappear. To disappear, and never come back. But even if it did happen, it would not change her back. She could never change back to who she was before Ian came. But she continued to glare at him. Go away, she wished. Go away from wherever you came from, and never come back. The equally fierce hazel eyes in front of her would not lose their radiance of determination. Suddenly, big clumps of tears began to form in Helga's hateful stare. The tears contradicted the loathing on her face, but nonetheless they fell down her cheeks, where they gathered and fell from her face.

"I," Helga said with angry, loud huffs, "am afraid, of no one." Ian did not bother moving from her grip.

"Remember when I asked why you loved Arnold?" Helga shook him, hating the words that came from his mouth and fully aware that Arnold was not far away.

"Don't say that!" she screamed at him, frantic that Arnold would hear. Ian ignored her panic.

"Do you?"

Helga didn't respond. She just continued to stare at him and angrily breathe down his neck.

"Do you know why I love you?" he asked. The foreign words instantly pierced her heart. She couldn't respond, but Ian didn't care. He continued.

"When I grew up, I was all alone. Just like you, Helga. I had no one to care for me, not even my family. I had no brothers and no sisters to save me from my father. He would come home drunk, every night." Helga's eyes watered up again, not wanting to hear the story. She began to sob and shook Ian again, not saying anything but trying to get him to shut up. She stopped, but her crying continued. She didn't want to hear it. "When he would beat me, my mother would stay in the corner, frightened. She was scared to death of my father. She would just sit there, watching. And crying. She was such a weak woman." Helga began shaking him again, harder than before. Shut up! She thought. Shut up shut up shut up shut up! Ian continued, despite the flow of tears streaming down Helga's face. "And at night, he would hurt her, too. I'd always see her in her bedroom, on the floor and crying. She would never do a thing about my father. She would just let him control our lives." Ian narrowed his eyes as he continued. "You didn't take crap from anyone, Helga. I'd never met anyone as strong willed as you. But maybe you've just been lying to me the whole time. Maybe you're lying to yourself, too. It's like Arnold's controlling your life, without even trying."

Helga immediately shoved Ian away from her and ran to a tree nearby. She began to scream as she drove her fists again and again and again into the motionless trunk in front of her. Arnold immediately saw and rushed over, frightened by her uncontrollable rage. "Just!" She punched the tree with her fist. "Leave!" She continued to pound the bark with all her might, emitting sickening thuds between each shout. "Me!" With a final blow of her knuckles, she screamed, "ALONE!" and clumsily fell back, right into Arnold's frantic arms. She was shaking.

"Helga!" Arnold shrieked. Still fully conscious, Helga quickly got herself to her feet, leaving small spots of blood on Arnold from her knuckles.

"Get away from me!" Helga acted as if the two boys in front of her were two monsters closing in on her. To her, they were monsters. Both of them.

"Helga, please... just..." Arnold pleaded helplessly. He was being torn apart every moment he looked at her. How could she act such a way? "Just calm down, Helga. Please..."

Helga slowly walked a short distance away from them, her body still trembling. She let herself fall to the ground and watched her tears fall into the grass and disappear. She ran her fingers along the wet blades of grass while staring at her wounded knuckles, not feeling the pain. She heard the crunching in the grass and saw Ian kneel down next to her out of the corner of her eye.

"Helga," he said gently. His deep voice, which haughtily challenged her before, was soothing now. Helga sighed shakily. "Let's go back to the party now... Everything's going to be okay. Let's just head in." Helga lifted her head a little to look up at him. Her bangs covering her face gave her expression a threatening look.

"No, Ian." She articulated each word. "It's not going to be okay. You've just... Criminey Ian you're ruining my life." Helga was completely composed now, but still upset.

"Helga," he sighed. "Why do you keep saying that? I'm not ruining your life. Admit it. You're just scared. ...But... I'm sorry I blew up at you like that. I just can't stand to see you hurting yourself anymore."

"I'm not hurting myself, Ian, you--"

"I what? Jumbled your life into a big mess? You are scared, Helga. ...And you know what? I'm scared too. Scared that I'll wake up one day, and you'll be gone. Like you were just a dream. That none of this ever happened."

Helga didn't answer, because she knew he was right. She was scared. And his words were terrifying. They were terrifying because they comforted her.

Ian smiled almost drunkenly as he nuzzled his head into her neck.

"I cherish you, Helga. Why won't you cherish me?"

Helga stared off into the black distance, her heart pounding. She gently placed her head against his soft hair and whispered back, "I cherish you, Ian. I cherish you."

Arnold was a few yards back, not hearing their words. He stared in wonder at how Helga reacted to the boy next to her, especially after he was so mean to her. He didn't understand, and figured he never would understand Helga. His attention turned back to the music coming from behind him. The contest! He gathered up himself and headed noiselessly back inside.

Ian didn't notice his departure. Helga did.

"Well of course I'll join with you, Arnold. Don't worry about it." Lila happily led Arnold to the front table, where they were registered and given paper numbers. They exchanged smiles and headed into the rest of the crowd.

Helga and Ian still stood in front of the lit house. Helga rubbed her sore hands and still wanted to go home.

"Well, can we go back in now?" Ian asked. Helga's imagination picked up the nonexistent impatience in his voice.

"I don't wanna go in. What are you, bossing me around?"

"No, I just want to head inside."

"For what?"

"For the party!" Each child wondered why the other was suddenly becoming so argumentive.

"For the stupid dance contest!?"

"Yeah!"

"Who are you gonna dance with, Arnold!?"

"I'm gonna dance with you!"

"There you are, bossing me around again!"

"Wha-no I'm not. I just want to go enjoy the party."

"And I just want to punch your lights out right now, but you don't see me lunging at you."

"Lunge away!"

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Nothing! Let's just go inside, okay?"

"I don't want to!"

"It's getting cold out here!"

"So what! I don't wanna go in!" Helga's frantic thoughts were returning as she began to remember that Arnold had seen her. He knew about Cecile! That was the only thought running through Helga's mind. How could she face him? Hopefully he bought her insult.

Ian rose an eyebrow. "What, you too chicken?"

Helga's attention returned to the task at hand.

"WHAT!?"

Ian smiled. Her weak spot wasn't very hard to detect at all.

"Baaawk bawk bawk!" He waved his elbows in the air and strutted around her. Helga didn't laugh; she growled.

"Cut it out!"

He stuck his neck out to look her closely in the face and paused. "...BAAAAWK!!!"

Helga swung her fist and missed his timed dodge. "You're pullin' all the wrong strings today, Buddy!"

"Chik-aaaaun!" he continued.

"Arghh! I am not a friggin chicken, you MORON! I'm gonna kill you!"

Ian laughed playfully and ran with high knees away from the bloodthirsty hands sprawling for his neck. "If you're not a chicken, prove it!" he yelled behind him.

"I will, by killing you!"

"Wouldn't it just be easier to dance? Less messy, you know!" His eyes diverted in front of him as his head was turned to yell back at her, so he didn't see Helga close in on him. She tackled him to the ground and sat on him as she glared down at the gleeful boy.

"(buk buk buk...)" he said quietly, but tauntingly.

Helga leaned down and pressed her nose against his. She still looked very angry.

"I AM NOT A CHICKEN, CAT BOY."

Ian thought about kissing her, but laughed and decided not to.

"What?" she demanded, lifting her head.

"Nothing."

"I'm NOT! Fine, okay, I'll do your reDICulous little dance thing! Criminey, just shut up!" She climbed off of him and headed inside. No way was someone like HE getting away with calling Helga G. Pataki a chicken. He'd said enough crap. Ian got up and hurried to catch up to her. 


	12. Boogie Nights

Helga's certainty of her decision began to fade a little as she walked into the room with Ian. Everyone was in pairs, but the couple that caught her eye was Arnold and Lila. She felt a twinge of jealousy, and because of that "twinge," she grabbed Ian's wrist and aggressively dragged him into the crowd.

"C'mon, Catboy, let's show these Neanderthals what we're made of." Ian smiled and caught up with her frustrated pace. They went to the table, registered, and received a number of their own.

"You gonna dance with bare feet?" Ian asked, pinning Helga's number to her back as she held up her hair. Helga looked down and wiggled her toes.

"You bet."

She turned to help Ian with his number and Rhonda appeared on stage.

"Okay! Here are the rules!" Rhonda paused for a moment, realizing she hadn't made any. She thought fast. "I don't want to see any dancing that would disgrace your presence in the Lloyd household, so let's keep this clean! You will be dancing with your registered partner, but sometimes we'll mix everyone up. The most creative dancing wins, and the prize is thirty bucks! Now let's have some fun!" The kids ooh-ed and ahh-ed at their perspective of the large sum.

"I reckon I can buy meself a new pair of that thar shoes!" Stinky drawled. His partner, Nadine, hesitantly smiled back, wondering how she got stuck with him. 'Ian must be looking for me,' she thought worriedly.

The drummer pounded a quick beat on the drumset, and the music began. Helga didn't start dancing at first, because she just stared at Ian as she felt unprepared. But one look at Arnold's and Lila's happy expressions got her moving. Ian and Helga danced to the upbeat music within the rest of the crowd, with Arnold not far away. A few moments passed, and the crowd began to shrink. Arnold and Lila, Gerald and Phoebe, Eugene and Sheena, Nadine and Stinky, and Helga and Ian were the only ones on the dance floor.

Ian dipped Helga over his arm with a quick spin that twisted her back up as Stinky, who was behind them, stopped to catch his breath from all the movement. His rest got the team out, so there were four teams left. The music faded into its third song as the melody turned to a salsa-type song. Ian quickly stepped away from Helga and stood stiffly with his arms at his sides. His head was lowered and he glared up seductively with a smirk at his dancing partner, like a Spanish dancer with a rose in his mouth. Helga laughed at his sudden charade and played along. She two-stepped over to him and they dramatically clasped their hands together to waltz about the room. Helga forget about everything but her enjoyment as her and Ian strutted around playfully, to the delight of their audience. Arnold and Lila were attracting a similar positive response as Lila pulled the shorter boy through her legs and continued twirling and dancing with him. Sheena and Eugene's constant ballet routine was getting a bit old to the judges, so they were cast out. Gerald and Phoebe were still hanging in there, and by the look on Phoebe's face, so was her old crush on the boy.

After the salsa song, the contest paused as the next round came into play. It was an upbeat, fast song that involved partner swapping. Helga's heart absently skipped at the idea. The girls stood on one side and the guys on the other, and the next song began. Helga danced with Ian for a little while, but this time a football-headed distraction captured her continual glances.

"You know Helga, you're not that bad of a dancer," Ian commented with a grin.

"You're not so bad yourself," she replied nonchalantly.

"What do you say we pick it up a notch?" Helga stared at Ian's expectant face for a moment until she gave up and let a smile creep onto her face. She was about ot answer when Ian suddenly lifted her onto his shoulder. Her yelp attracted Arnold and Lila's attention and Arnold's mouth gaped at the sight of their twirling. Lila's mouth hung a little open as well. So, they began to imitate the other couple's twists and turns around each other. After they had gone back and forth trying to outdo each other, they knew it was time for the switch.

Helga was reluctantly cast over to Arnold, where time would have stopped if it hadn't been for the music that continued in the background. Her stomach turned in nervousness as they danced, but after a while time subconsciously reassured Helga that there was nothing to be nervous of. She managed to loosen up a little and goof around with Arnold as they danced around the room. Ian was with Phoebe, and Gerald with Lila.

"Isn't this fun?" Arnold asked Helga, who snapped back into reality and realized that he was talking to her. She smiled in agreement, not realizing Arnold's knot in his stomach as he hesitated to speak with her while he still had time. And that knot in his stomach wouldn't go away as long as he kept seeing Cecile's face in front of him like that. He felt like he was dancing with Cecile, and it was a great feeling. He was finally with the girl he missed being around. However, that thought also had a giant realization on top of it, which kind of drained that love-sick feeling he would probably still have if he was still uninformed of her identity. Because although he felt like this was Cecile (after all, those were the exact same eyes he gazed into on Valentine's Day), he knew it was Helga. Arnold had never realized what a strong presence she had; it was the kind of presence where you wouldn't even have to look, but you could just tell when she walked into a room. You could just feel it. And he felt it now, as he twirled her around once more.

"Helga, do you... wanna talk after we're done?"

"Done with what?"

"The dancing contest."

Rhonda annouced the next switch. Helga headed off, knowing she hadn't answered Arnold. But she didn't want to leave him hanging; she looked back with a quick nod. Arnold began breathing again.

After a while, the contest, which had involved a few moments of fourth graders gathered in a circle marvelling at the dance moves of the two couples in the spotlight, Ian & Helga and Arnold & Lila, the contest slowed to a stop and initiated the cheers and clapping of the crowd. It was a few moments of suspense as the judges decided the winner, and soon Rhonda was on stage with the results in her hand.

"Alright, great job, everyone! We all know that had I entered, I would be the recipient of this award. But seeing as this isn't the case, I'm glad to annouce our winners, Ian! And Helga!" she quickly added. Ian's face beamed at his victory and he turned to bring Helga to the stage with him. The empty space beside him, however, decided otherwise. 


	13. Unspoken Words

The curtain of light cast down from a streetlight along the quiet, otherwise dark street brought forth the image of two dark figures that walked into it. They walked slowly--almost mechanically--trudging in unison along the sidewalk, fading again into the darkness.

Neither child spoke a word as they walked. The chirping of crickets was the only background noise they had to their thoughts. Of course, situations get so intense sometimes that being beyong words is a given; thoughts, too, simply fade into white, as if the brain has automatically shut down like a self-denense mechanism lest it overload and kill you. So, at that point, Helga and Arnold simply walked side by side, with no purpose but perhaps just to save themselves.

Before she knew it, Helga realized they had reached Arnold's house. Arnold seemed a little more aware of the fact, as he left her side and headed towards the fire escape beneath his room. She didn't take her eyes off of his bedroom window until she heard him call her name.

"Helga, you comin'?"

"Me?" she asked. Arnold nodded, not minding that the question was rather ridiculous.

"If I open the front door, the cats will wake everyone up."

Helga cautiously walked over and joined him. He climbed the steps to his room, as Helga followed behind. Her heart, for the first time since they left the party, began to race as she thought back on all the countless times she secretly climbed this ladder alone to spy on the boy of her dreams. Now here she was, following him inside. She subconsciously moved with great stealth, instinctively feeling as if Arnold still did not know she was here. Her stealth was more to say than Arnold, who fell into the window and landed a little less gracefully with a thud on the floor.

Helga followed in from behind to see him rubbing his head as he sat on the floor. She looked around the room at the objects with a blanket of darkness draped over them by shadows cast from the skyline window frames; the rest, faintly lit by the vaguely bluish moonlight.

Arnold got up and stepped over to the ladder that led onto his roof. "Let's go up here," he suggested, waiting for her to follow more than just waiting for a response.

"O-on the roof?" Helga asked.

Arnold didn't reply this time, and just took it as a cue to head up. He opened the window above him and stepped out, leaving Helga alone in his room. She inhaled deeply, reminding herself that she was, indeed, both with Arnold and at his place... simultaneously. She shivered and followed him up.

There was a lot of open space with an occasional random vent or other rumbling contraption protruding through the roof.

Now that Arnold had Helga up here alone, he knew it was his chance to talk to her about things and maybe sort some stuff out. There certainly was quite a lot to be sorted.

The fact that it was his chance, however, may be what stalled him from saying anything. He suddenly felt on the spotlight, and couldn't bring himself to stutter any words out. How would he start? What could he say? What would she do?

Helga, on the other hand, was completely oblivious to the fact that any thoughts were racing through his head in the first place. The "spotlight" he felt so nervously trapped by appeared to Helga as nothing but the same faint darkness that covered the rest of the city surrounding them as well, blending them into the night. She wandered over to peer down from the top. Arnold simply sat on the ground and leaned back against his closed window, putting his hands behind his head. It was his only self-conscious attempt at reassuring himself that having Helga over alone was not a freakishly out-of-place event. But who was he kidding? Certainly not Helga. She couldn't take her eyes off of the ground below; it didn't matter that she could barely even see it.

Arnold almost began to speak, but he let a shiver stop him as it shot through his body from the slight chill in the air. Hugging himself to ward off the cool wind, he then stopped moving for a moment at the feeling that a faint sound was tickling at his ears. He listened closely, and realized it was Helga, humming to herself; her voice stood apart from the rest of the mechanical hums around them. He recognized the tune from the one he sang at the treehouse that day, leading him to wonder if she was actually paying attention to him instead of merely playing nice-girl from her illness.

Helga's soft, faint voice coaxed Arnold out of the pressure he felt to say anything. Instead, he got up and joined her at the fence by the edge.

Helga suddenly stopped humming when she became aware of how closely Arnold was standing to her. Almost on cue, a gust of wind blew across the rooftop, blowing Helga's hair around her and tickling her neck, reminding her of what she still looked like at the moment. Startled, she turned her head to look at Arnold. He looked almost bewildered as he stared back at her mysteriously vulnerable face, locks of hair tousled around her cheeks and shoulders. The faint moonlight cast a dim blue glow on them within the darkness, allowing just enough gentle visibility for Arnold to be moved by the sight before him.

So many questions, so many mysteries, so many secrets. He felt a bit overwhelmed by it, by his own awareness of how little he actually knew about Helga. And suddenly, he understood. Well, not entirely, but the way Helga was looking at him right now, the sad aura soaked in her captivating gaze staring directly at him seemed to capture his attention so acutely that if the world were to crumble beneath his feet at that very moment, he wouldn't have twitched his eyelids at it.

He didn't know if it was tears in her eyes, but even the white sparkles reflecting in her eyes had him under a spell. She was such a mystery. He had always assumed she had a hollow crevice in her heart where any normal person would have a heart, but now he realized that it wasn't that Helga had no heart, but rather that she was the embodiment of a natural phenomenon, with a vast and endless depth to her. So vast, in fact, that she was lost within her own sorrows without a light to guide her out of the dark isolation. Arnold's throat choked up and he swallowed nervously in attempt to clear the lump of emotion welling inside his throat, never taking his eyes off of the amazing yet puzzling girl standing before him. It had passed his mind before, the notion Helga was mean because she was hurting, but it wasn't until he stood inches away from her, gazing deeply into her eyes that he felt a dagger of emotional turmoil that could only come from her.

But why did she look at him this way now? It was almost as if he had done something terrible to her, as if he was the one that had been torturing her all his life. He felt a heavy wave of guilt blanket over him, as if it had been actual physical weight pressing onto his shoulders. He didn't know why he felt this way, or what was making Helga appear so upset, but the weight virtually robbed him of any free-willed reserve as he felt compelled to push himself into Helga, wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he could. He would have wrapped his arms around her fifty times if he could, but he felt his two short arms could never pull himself close enough to reach inside the dreary, empty caverns of her heart to pull her out and rescue her from the darkness inside her.

"Helga," he whispered with a pained expression on his face, the guilt overwhelming him. "I'm sorry..." He did not know what he was apologizing for, but it was all he could bring himself to say.

"I'm so sorry..." 


	14. Tangled Hearts

"Ian!" Phoebe cried when she saw him instinctively dash to the door. She turned to follow him, but stopped when she felt a hand on her arm. She looked back to see Gerald with his hand gently on her, and while it was the touch that made her stop, it was the sad look in his eyes that made her stay. She looked back at the doors which were swinging openly, without any sign of Ian in sight.

Arnold, not feeling Helga's arms return the embrace around him, pulled back a little to look at her. The tormented expression on her face had faded, but all he could see now was that she was staring at their feet. An akward feeling began to gnaw at him from Helga's unresponsiveness. What was going through her head? Why wasn't she getting angry at him for holding her like that? If he hadn't been so caught up in the moment, he would have been too scared to pull a stunt like that and trust to make it though alive.

After a long pause, Helga finally looked up at the sound of Arnold's soft voice, whispered in a way that left her convinced that she was hopelessly trapped in a dream, only to be tortured at any moment when she would wake up.

"Helga..." The way he looked at her made her heart sink into her stomach, or somewhere else it definitely wasn't supposed to be. Either way, it was still beating so hard that it took all of her strength just to remain standing. She didn't know what her own face looked like at that point, but she didn't want to know. All she could focus on was was his face, which she stared at so intently that it started to look like it was getting closer.

She couldn't speak a word. It was like one of those nightmares where there is so much going through your head that you just want to scream, but once you try, your vocal cords shut down and you can't even choke a puff of air out of your throat. And while this was definitely not a "nightmare," she was just as frightened as if it would have been. You would think that all those daydreams would have prepared her for the moment she realized that yes, Arnold's face was indeed approaching her own. But no. The rapid pounding of her heart felt like she was in a boxing tournament, ready to be KO'd at any second. The only thing that kept her standing was the fact that her body had completely frozen up.

She kept her eyes on his, until he was so close that all she could see were his eyelids slowly closing, leaving her alone in her panic. She gulped and closed her own eyes, too, waiting for whatever terrifying phenomenon awaited her. Suddenly she could feel his breath against her face, and she tried to hold her own as not to hyperventilate and blow him away in a gust of terror.

There was a pause. She waited. Nothing happened. She slowly opened her eyes to see Arnold standing in front of her, looking at her.

What? What happened? What did he do? What's going on? Her confusion was definitely not slowing down her heart rate at all.

"Helga," he said quietly, letting a long pause soak between each word he spoke. "Why didn't you push me away?"

What?

She stared at him blankly, blinking a few times in a vain attempt to clear her mind. He didn't bother saying anything else, waiting patiently for her answer. Something was up, and he wanted to know what it was.

Helga, on the other hand, was not about to give out any hints. Any more hints, anyway, seeing as Arnold had almost just made it to first base with her.

As a less than perfect compliment to the mood that had just been set, Arnold suddenly got the anger he was previously expecting.

Honestly, Helga wanted to break down in tears. What was he doing? Of course she wanted him to kiss her. How dare he test her like that, experimenting with her emotions to see how she would react. She would have blurted out everything that Arnold wanted to know. That yes, she does like him, to the point that it drove her mad every time she saw his face, that every time he was sad she was willing to sacrifice herself through sweat, blood, and tears just to return that amazing smile back to his lips, that she watched over and protected him because she wanted nothing more but for him to live a happy life, that he was the sunshine in her life that made it worth greeting the morning after each and every lonely night of her life.

But she didn't. The tears that her devastated heart produced didn't make it out, either, because her anger got to them first, and turned them instead to a hateful glare on her face.

How dare he.

Arnold immediately realized that he had done something horribly wrong. This wasn't supposed to happen. He wanted to know Helga's true feelings, but the innocent look that had washed over her features earlier was now miles and miles away, abandoning him alone with what appeared now as a ruthless monster standing before him.

Calling him Football Head wasn't going to cut it anymore. If she hadn't loved him, she probably would have thrown him off of the building. But instead, she resorted to something that might have hurt Arnold even more than the pavement a few stories below. With a loud crack, Helga slapped Arnold across the face, throwing his head to the side from the impact. "Arnold, you're the worst!" she cried passionately, and quickly ran back to his room.

Arnold did not move from his hunched position, standing completely still in shock. A fist to the nose might not have been so bad, but there was something about what Helga just did that was definitely not right. He stood still, eyes closed, listening to the shaking metal as Helga hurried down the fire escape, and finally to the sound of her footsteps running across the pavement, fading into the silent darkness.

Ian was just down the street from Helga's house when he saw her appear in the streetlight ahead of him, making a mad dash to the front door.

"Helga!" he called out, but she seemed to be in her own world as she covered her eyes with her arm and continued running. Ian dashed ahead, trying to catch her before she made it inside, but it was too late, because she flew inside and slammed the door behind her. Ian reached her porch, ran up and began banging on the door.  
"Helga!" he shouted through the door, banging again. There was no answer, and she didn't look like she was about to greet anyone, let alone invite them inside. He stood there for a moment, wondering what could have happened to make her so hysterical. His certainty that it involved Arnold, however, was what stopped him from giving up and leaving.

Taking a deep breath, Ian placed his hand on the doorknob and stared at it for a few moments. Finally, he twisted his wrist, heard a click, and gently pushed the door open. Peering inside, he could see nothing through the darkness of the sleeping house, so he slowly stepped in and quietly shut the thick wooden door behind him. At first, he wondered how he was going to find Helga in the unfamiliar house, but the sobs coming from upstairs guided his way.

Pushing her cracked door open a little more, Ian looked inside to see an empty room, but he could definitely hear Helga in there. He stepped inside and took a few steps toward the bed, where he could make out her dark figure sitting on the floor next to the other side of the bed.

"Helga?" he quietly asked, but she still did not respond, tending instead to her unstoppable wails that she was trying to quietly surpress. He slowly approached her, and saw her curled into a ball with her face buried in her knees. The faint moonlight shone onto the side of her bed, but she hid herself protectively in the darkness beside it.

"Helga," he whispered once more, going to her side and sitting on his knees. She slowly raised her head in the only response she could make to realizing that Ian was there with her, and looked into his eyes as he sat in the beam of moonlight.

She watched his face look back at her with an expression of sadness, and it gave her the sensation that his heart was like a mirror, reflecting back an expression of all the pain that she was feeling.

"Ian, I..." she started, but his arms suddenly wrapped around her, pulling her cheek against his shoulder, where it stayed and began to soak his shirt with all the tears that her broken heart had finally released. All her life, Helga had never wasted her tears on the scrapes that oozed blood from her knees, or from the arguements with her parents, or from the nasty names that the other kids would call her. She bottled them up, hiding them away in her heart as it dug a deeper and deeper trench inside of her, pulling her into the darkness of emotionless isolation. But now, it appeared that all those tears that her childhood was deprived of had not disappeared, but were instead merely sleeping, because here they were now, pouring out in a rush to make up for all those years of lost time.

Ian rested his head against hers and slowly stroked her hair, a gentle feeling that Helga had nearly forgotten since her mother would stroke her hair when she was a very young child. But Miriam's seldom affection for her daughter had ceased into nothing, leaving Helga to believe that she did not need such petty actions, meant for babies, for all she cared. But as Ian's hand gently stroked the back of her head as she leaned into his chest, her sobs slowly began to die out and her labored breathing slowed down.

Soon, the room was once again silent, and the two lonely children sat motionless in each others' arms, soaking in the uninterrupted warmth that both so desparately needed. 


	15. Getaway

The sound of scuffling feet and rustling suitcases seeped in from the other side of Helga's bedroom door and prodded her awake. She stared in a daze at the ceiling, unaware of where she was.

"Helga! Get up!" Bob's booming voice commanded from the hallway. Helga groggily pulled herself up and sat for a moment. She lowered her eyes to her body and saw her dress still crumpled on her body.

The door swung open and an empty suitcase clumsily tumbled in until it stopped at the foot of her bed.

"I've got the camper ready. Come on, we're headin' out!" Bob added without a glance and headed off to continue packing.

What had happened yesterday? Where did this dress come from?

Slowly, like a sticky, morning mist gradually lifting from a city, the scene began to come into view, piece by piece. She was at home. Ian appeared at her door, and they went to the dance. Arnold was there.

Helga touched her hair. It was in knots and bunched up around her shoulders, tickling her neck. Then her thoughts skipped to Arnold's roof.

She didn't remember what happened at first, but soon enough her memory tossed in the royal flush and filled her with unbearable humiliation. Arnold had pretended he was going to kiss her. Her secret was crumbling apart, all in the course of a single night.

Or was it all last night that her world turned to violently-crumbling debris chasing her out of the safety of her rabbit hole? No, this was a course of disaster set off by the catalyst Hurricane Ian. A nuclear disaster with a clean-up scale too deep for anything but evacuation.

Her escape car driver stood at the doorway of her bedroom—he'd finally stopped and looked inside at his daughter.

"What's with the get-up?"

#

Helga finished changing into her normal clothes and packing the necessities of surviving a weekend in the forest. It was the first time she welcomed an impromptu family outing out in the wilderness. Tackling a wild grizzly was nothing after a week like that.

She pulled her suitcase into the hallway and looked into her bedroom one last time. She remembered Ian chasing after her and pulling her into his arms in the corner of her room. She smiled softly at the ghost of the two of them and shut the bedroom door.

#

The sun was shining as brilliantly as any getaway paradise could offer. Bob quickly got to work assembling the portable television for him to watch while he set up the grill. Miriam set out the tablecloth and put the paper plates and cups on the picnic table in their usual campsite. Helga took on a challenge of her own: the hammock. She wrestled with the net, quickly losing as it bound tightly around her arms and shoulders. But she fought valiantly onward until she tamed the thing between two tree trunks and popped a squat on her prey.

#

Olga hadn't joined the family on their trip, so an hour and two hamburgers later, Helga marched off to find some way to kill time and avoid filial bonding.

She rolled up her sleeves and skipped off into the thick of the trees to start her trek into the great unknown.

Helga's sneakers skidded on the loose gravel as she climbed down the side of an embankment she soon came across. The starkest difference between the city and the wilderness was the clarity of sound. It was easy for Helga to pause and listen carefully for the sound of running water in the far distance; she followed the quiet noise and sure enough, running through an opening in the trailed forest was a sparkling creek.

Helga immediately tugged her dress over her head and kicked off her shoes before prancing in her tank top and underwear through the sharp, stinging gravel and into the shallow water. It was cold, but refreshing and crystal clear. She almost wanted to drink it, but stopped once she looked at her feet and watched a pool of tiny minnows desperately scramble away. She waded further into the creek until it reached her knees, and bent over to splash her face. The cold stung her cheeks at first, but she rubbed the water in with her hands before plunging her face down into the creek. She opened her eyes under the water and looked at the floor, but couldn't make anything out of the blur.

When she came up for air and looked down the direction of the creek, she realized she could hear the sound of water louder still. The water was gently flowing against her legs, so she turned and waded along toward the direction of the current, toward the noise.

#

It wasn't long before the current slowed and the river widened into a small pool, its middle deep enough to darken the crystal clear water into a blue-green haze. Helga happily bounded further into the deepening water until she finally plunged head first underwater. She swam the length of one breath and popped her head above water, where she found herself staring at a fairly large waterfall at the corner of the pool. She continued one more breath underwater toward the waterfall with her eyes open. She couldn't make anything out clearly, but she did notice a shadow appear from above the surface of the water. She came up for air and looked up at the figure, but it was too late.

"KOWABUNGAAA!" a crackled voice shouted as the figure came barreling straight for Helga in the water. Helga let out a blood-curdling scream.

The cannon hit water a few feet in front of Helga. It emerged from underwater a moment later, and Helga peeked through her shielding arms.

"Oh, heya, Helga! Didn't see you there!" Arnold's grandmother said with a belly laugh. She floated the rest of her body to the surface and began doing water ballet.

"Granny!" Helga yelled in surprise. The last thing on earth she expected was to run across another person, let alone Arnold's—wait a minute. "G—Granny?" Helga quickly shot her neck around to scan the area for cohorts. "Is—is anyone with you?" she asked cautiously.

"Oh, surrre!" Grandma replied gaily. "Grandpa and your little boyfriend are fishin' down-river."

Helga winced.

"Hey!"

Grandma plunged her upper body underwater and performed a magnificent upside-down plié. Helga waited for her to emerge.

"Hey! He's not my—"

Next was a scissor cut.

"He's not my boyfriend," Helga spat out when Grandma emerged.

"Oh? I saw you two on the roof last night," she replied nonchalantly. Helga froze for a moment and swallowed a lungful of water.

"What?" she choked out between coughs.

"Oh, surrre. Well, I saw you head up there, anyway, after he came home from his little party. Ah, to be young." She smiled wistfully and posed a 10-point bent knee position.

Helga would have fallen quiet from the news, but she was in the midst of a coughing fit. She started swimming to the edge of the pool, and Grandma gracefully followed.

"You okay, Sport?" They climbed up and sat on the large rocks on the side of the water. Grandma launched a violent whack on Helga's back, sending the water spilling from Helga's mouth.

They sat quietly for a moment, until Grandma spoke up.

"You know, Arnold's grandpa and I, we grew up together." She smiled off into the distance, looking like an old woman for the first time that day as she reminisced. "Boy did I ever give him a hard time. Never let him keep his guard down, that's for sure!"

"You did?"

"Oh, surrre. Used to call him Chin Boy."

Helga smiled at the name.

"He was such a goody-goody. Always had to do the right thing. I, on the other hand, was what you might call his perfect complement. Not a day went by that I wasn't causing trouble at school or setting traps in ol' Chin Boy's desk."

"What did he do then?"

"Well he hated me, of course. At least that's what he wanted to believe."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, Helga. Boys are dumb. Never forget that. Dull as rocks." Grandma took a rounded rock in her hand and held it in front of Helga's face for a moment before dropping it into the water. It hit the surface with a thunk and sunk quickly to the bottom. "It's up to the women to keep the water moving so they don't get covered in slime."

Helga sat quietly and waited for her to continue.

"They'll come to realize it eventually," Grandma added after a while. She gave Helga a knowing smile. "It's only when the water stops that they try to find what was keepin' the gook off."

There were voices in the distance creeping into earshot. "Well, I better get back to the base. My soldiers need me!" Grandma shot to her feet. "Yeeeeee-haw! Tonight, we feast like kings!" Helga watched her pale, skinny legs dash up the steps aside the waterfall and saw the full-body-swimsuited figure disappear from sight.

#

The next day, Helga opened her eyes and found herself lying in a heap on the dirt ground. She looked up and saw the hammock hanging triumphantly upside-down above her. "Oh, come ON!" she mumbled exhaustedly and crawled back to her bed in the RV. When she reached the door, however, Bob slammed it open from the inside and knocked Helga right in the face, sending her back to the ground.

"What a beautiful day!" he boomed.

#

"So Helga, you got any plans today?" Miram asked as they sat at the picnic table for breakfast: microwavable breakfast pouches cooked over the campfire.

"What do you mean, plans? We're in a forest, for chrisssakes," Helga blurted.

"Well, me and your father found a rowboat rental hut yesterday, so we're going to go out on a little date today," she said in a flirty-mom way and smiled at Bob.

"A rowboat? Isn't that a bit of work for you two?"

Bob flexed his bicep. "Nonsense, Olga, I could row a man to death with these guns," he said, missing the sarcasm.

Helga sighed and rolled up in the hammock again to face the quiet campsite once her parents wandered off. She'd entertained herself enough yesterday, but doing it two days in a row was a stretch—she was ready to go home. She got up and switched on the portable TV, but it didn't pick up any channels but a crackled news station. Helga flicked the box back off and wandered down the same path as yesterday.

#

It wasn't long before Helga heard voices in the distance. She paused and tried to decipher which direction they were coming from. She couldn't make out what they were saying at first, but it sounded like yelling. She slowly continued on to reach a spot where she could hear what they were saying without reaching them, and when she paused once more to listen closely, she realized the voices were calling out.

"Arnold!"

"Aaaarnold!"

Helga froze. She recognized the voices as Arnold's grandparents, and these did not sound like calls that were being answered. She ran toward the sound of the voices.

#

The calls got louder until they reached a clarity that brought Arnold's grandparents into Helga's eyeshot through the trees.

"Granny!"

Grandma looked over and spotted Helga down the path. "Helga!"

Grandpa trotted over from out of sight and ran up to the two girls. "Arnold?" There was a disconcerting look of worry on his face.

"No, it's Helga, dearie. Helga, have you seen Arnold?" Grandma asked. Helga shook her head.

"What happened?"

"Woke up early this morning and Short Man was already gone," Grandpa said. "Figured he went off to play, but it's been hours now, and it's not like him to be gone so long without a word."

"I'll go look!" Helga blurted, and ran down the path. Arnold's family's campsite was nearby, so she soon came across the tented clearing. Helga quietly walked into the area and looked around, filled with mixed feelings of embarassment to face the boy again and apprehensive hope that she would find him safe and sound. But of course there was no one in the campsite. She saw a book on the picnic table and walked over to it. A laminated sticker from the P.S. 118 school library covered the bottom of the book binding. The book was the only hint Helga had that she'd been sharing the forest with Arnold.

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath before dashing off to continue deeper into the forest.


End file.
